An Unlikely House Guest
by ChaoticReverie
Summary: When financial difficulty strikes, Maki finds herself playing hostess to the most unlikely of company. Her only hope is that he can learn to behave himself before she completely loses her mind… or kills him… whichever comes first.
1. Utterly 'F'ed

**So, here goes my second attempt at this series. Now… past experience has taught me that there are a few – well, at least ONE – readers out there who absolutely, one-hundred percent despise, loathe, and abhor the Maki/Julietta pairing. The proof of this I received as a very angry review, and I would just like to say this now. If you don't like 'em, DON'T READ THIS STORY! It honestly didn't **_**bother**_** me overly much, but I did find it pretty ridiculous that someone would leave a review just to say how much they detest a pairing. I mean… come on… can we say, 'attention whore'?**

**Ahem, for those of you who enjoy the pairing, I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. I've wanted to do this for soooo long, and I'm ecstatic to finally post this first chapter. Be warned, the development of this relationship isn't going to be instant, it will take a little while. Have patience. This work of fiction continues on from where the series ended.**

**Warnings: This is Maki we're dealing with, so be assured that there will be swearing galore! Also… it's got some nudey-nudey nakedness and smexing in later chapters. XD **

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned something… honestly… **

**An Unlikely House Guest**

**Utterly F'ed**

"See you tomorrow, Maki!"

Her mouth tipped into a lazy, half-smile at the exuberant farewell, and she gave her friends a brief nod and a wave before turning and sliding her keycard into the lock pad. When the speaker gave a crackling 'buzz', Maki pulled the front door open and stepped inside.

As she made her way to her apartment – a daunting trek, considering the fact that the elevator was currently out of service and she lived on the nineteenth floor – her mind wandered. She recalled the events of the past three months, still uncertain as to whether she should see the change as a positive or a negative turn in her life.

After her battle with Eternal, the Fukamichi Rankings had completely dissolved, and overnight she had become a sort of street-fighter celebrity. People were approaching her almost nonstop, wanting a chance to battle with the 'renowned' Airmaster. Yes, everyone wanted their minute in the limelight, and – frankly – it was beginning to wear her down. While she would never turn down an opportunity to let loose her fighting spirit, she was only human, and lately she was really beginning to feel the strain of all those extra scuffles.

She sighed, a mirthless laugh leaving her lips as she pulled one hand through her mussed red hair. It was _silly_, honestly, for everyone to have put her on this pedestal. Everyone seemed to be under the impression that she had _defeated_ the Eternal Fighter… but the truth of it was there had been no victor on that day.

A real smile blossomed on her lips then, memories of that epic fight making her blood stir and heart sing. It had been a dual she would never forget, one that would remain with her until the very end. The power, the _pressure_ of his spirit thrashing against hers had been magnificent, but in the end their time had been cut short. Both of them had fought valiantly and held nothing back, and while it had appeared that neither was truly willing to be broken, the dilapidated building they named as their battleground had not been so resilient. It had literally come crumbling down around them, and when she emerged from the rubble, there had been no sign of her opponent. Still, to this day, she did not know if Eternal had fallen, or if he had simply collected himself and left… much as she had.

So, needless to say, she found it a little ridiculous that so many people considered her a legend when the thing she was so famous for was – in fact – not true at all.

By the time she reached the nineteenth floor, she was dragging her feet, sneakers scuffing noisily along the concrete. It had been a… _long day _for her, and she was both physically and mentally exhausted. When she got home, she wanted nothing more than to order some takeout, curl up on her couch, and…

The paper taped to her front door gave her pause, but after only a second of scanning the print, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to it with a loud groan. "How could I have forgotten?" she muttered miserably.

She stuck her keycard stiffly into the lock, snatching the notice down as she pushed the door open. Closing it with more force than was necessary, Maki made her way into the kitchen and placed the crumpled paper on the counter. A warning of eviction… not the first she'd received. Her rent was late… _substantially_, and if she didn't find a way to pony up some dough by the end of the week, she was going to be out on her ass.

The young woman drooped pathetically to the floor, head sagging back as she allowed her legs to fall open in a most unlady-like fashion. Not that she gave a shit… she most certainly was _not _a lady.

For the entirety of the time she'd lived alone – nearly three years now – she'd been able to get by on the money her mother had left her. However, as was expected, that well had finally dried up, and now Maki was left without any means of supporting herself, and less than a week to find a solution to her problem.

'Maybe I should start looking for a job,' she considered, sighing raggedly at the notion. She was not exactly a 'people-person', and was pretty awkward when it came to doing… well… _anything_ - aside from fighting, that is. She wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, and didn't exactly have the world's best resume. She doubted _Former Women's Gymnastics Champion _or _Street Fighter _would look all that impressive to most employers. She was utterly and royally fucked.

A sharp knock on her door had her staggering rather gracelessly to her feet, and from there she stumbled just as clumsily to the door. 'I hope it isn't the landlord,' she grumped, leaning forward to peer through the peephole.

What she saw made a delicate crease appear between her brows, and she drew back a moment to shake her head and give her eyes a good rub. There was simply no way…

Again she looked, and the same image appeared through the tiny lens. She hesitated momentarily, debating on whether or not to open up. His being here certainly couldn't mean anything good for her, considering his cargo. However, if Maki knew one thing, it was that he was as stubborn as she was, and it was likely he wouldn't be leaving until she answered the door.

Not even a second after the thought had crossed her mind, a large fist rapped against the door, accompanied by a decidedly aggravated shout.

"I know you're in there, Maki! I can stand here all night if that's what it takes!"

Grunting, she wrapped her fingers around the handle and pulled it open. Glaring sharply at the auburn-haired man on her doorstep, she grumbled, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

**So… what did we think? I know it doesn't supply much in terms of plot, but it's kind of an epilogue of sorts; a teaser, if you will. Ahem, I have a few other stories that are top priority at the moment, so updates will be sporadic. Don't get too panicky; just don't expect something new every week. **

**Much love for the support!**


	2. An Offer She Can't Refuse

**Disclaimer: I do not own AirMaster or any of the characters pertaining to the series.**

**An Offer She Can't Refuse**

"Now Maki, I can explain."

"You have one minute," the young woman responded coldly, pinning her father with a distasteful look.

The tall male standing on her step rubbed the back of his neck, sighing as he pondered how to enlighten his obviously less-than-pleased daughter. He supposed being honest was the best way to go. "I've come to ask you for a favor."

"A favor?" she repeated skeptically, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Yeah."

"Then what is _he _doing here?" Maki demanded, pointing stiffly toward the unconscious form slouched against the railing. Of all the people she hoped to never see show up on her doorstep again, Julietta Sakamoto was at the top of that list. That her own father had brought him here… _again_… couldn't be a good thing.

"Well," Shiro chuckled nervously, "actually… he's kinda the reason I'm here."

Her expression soured immediately. Then, without further preamble, she took a step back and slammed the door… on her father's hand.

"Aahh! Damn it, Maki!"

"Your fingers were in the way," she mumbled uncaringly, pushing the door – now free of the obstruction of body parts – closed with a jarring 'slam'. Shaking her head at the nerve of the man, the blue-eyed woman made her way into the kitchen, ignoring his shouting in favor of scouring her fridge for something eatable.

"C'mon, Maki! You said you'd let me explain! I _need _your help with this, please!"

'Hmm… how long has this been in here?' she mused, eying a carton of takeout warily. She lifted the box and popped the lid open, peering inside before taking a light whiff. Gagging minutely, she hurriedly reclosed the container and tossed it into the garbage. 'Apparently a little too long…'

"Please, Maki! I'll pay you!"

Oh, she heard _that_. Perking a bit at the mention of money, the shapely redhead took a moment to consider her options. Well… lack of options, actually. She would be without a place to live if she didn't think of a way to make some cash, but was this 'favor' really worth it?

Hesitantly, she made her way back to the front door, taking hold of the handle and pulling it open just a crack. Peering through, she leveled her father with a quizzical look and inquired, "How much?"

"As much as you need!" Shiro promised, hands clasped together like a beggar.

"What exactly does this favor involve?" she probed, pushing the door completely open so that she could lean on the doorframe. When she noted her father's suddenly nervous expression, she began to suspect that perhaps this particular favor _wouldn't _be worth the money.

"W-well, I'm having a bit of trouble with the wife-"

"What a surprise."

"Don't interrupt, Maki, it's not polite."

The buxom teen frowned, crossing her arms as quirking a brow in irritation as she rebuked, "A little late for you to be trying to teach me my manners, don't you think, Shiro?"

Clearing his throat, said male went on, "As I was saying, I'm having problems at home, and my biggest concern right now is trying to sort things out with my wife. I don't want this marriage to fall through, Maki. I don't want Miori to have to go through the same thing you went through. Despite what you may think, I have always regretted not having been there for you as a child."

Tiring of the direction the conversation was going in, she clenched her teeth and grumbled, "Yeah, _and_…?"

"Well, as I'm sure you recall, the last time the two of you… _met_… he wasn't exactly in the best shape. Both of his legs and one of his arms were fractured in a fight, and he wasn't really in any condition to be taking care of himself."

"So why isn't he in a hospital?" Maki asked, tone bland and disinterested.

"Ahem, I was getting to that," the auburn-haired boxer muttered sourly. "He _was _originally in the hospital, but I guess he's not all that fond of them. He made… quite a commotion, and I ended up getting lumped with him because they refused to house him any longer. I couldn't turn him away, so I've been watching him for the past few months.

"He healed up quite nicely, but a few weeks ago he got into another fight with that same guy, Yoshi… Yoshi-something-er-other. Big man here won… but he didn't walk away without some bruises. Ended up with a few broken ribs and – needless to say – the hospital isn't willing to take him back in. They patched him up and handed him over to me _again_."

"So, this involves me _how_?" Maki asked after a brief period of silence.

Sighing raggedly, Shiro glanced down at his unconscious companion and admitted, "At the rate my marriage is deteriorating, the only way I'll be able to salvage it is to focus on patching things up, y'know, spend more time with the family. I can't really do that _and _take care of this guy."

"So… you're saying you want me to… take care of him for you?" she stammered, utterly disbelieving that he had the nerve to ask such a thing of her.

"Please, Maki!"

"You do remember that this guy tried to _sexually assault me_ the last time you brought him here, _right_?" she shouted. Memories of his domineering, unwanted kiss came rushing back to her. The shocking sight of his bared chest and his… his…

She shook her head free of the disturbing images, willing the dark blush that had settled on her cheeks to fade. "No!" she told Shiro firmly. "There is no way I'm having that creep in my apartment!"

The young woman was mildly surprised to feel her father's hands grasping pathetically at the bottom of her shirt, his expression pleading and he stared up at her from his knees. "C'mon, Maki! You're a tough girl; you can take care of yourself! If he tries getting fresh with you, just kick his ass like you did before!"

Glaring down at the pitiful wreck clinging to her clothes, she grumbled, "You're the worst dad in the world, has anyone ever told you that?"

"It'll only be for a little while longer! He'll be out of your hair in a few months, I swear! I'll do anything!"

Her desire to remain housed and her desire to stay _far away _from this lunatic stalker were currently at war in her head. On one side of the coin, she would be able to keep her apartment, pay her bills, and eat for another couple of month, giving her ample time to find another means of earning cash. On the other side of that same coin… she would be playing hostess to Julietta Sakamoto, stubborn asshole and all-around sketch-bag.

At the end of it all, it came down to two simple factors. She _needed _the money, and her father was quite right – if he got inappropriate, she could just wail on him.

Sighing begrudgingly, she conceded, "Fine, fine, but you had better pay!"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you _so_ much!" Shiro beamed, dropping to touch his forehead to the floor in a gracious bow.

Lip curling at the pitiful display, Make clipped, "Stop doing that! Make yourself useful and drag his sorry ass in here, would ya?"

Dipping to the ground, the auburn-haired boxer grabbed hold of one limp arm and pulled his friend onto his back, swaying as he stood. The weight of Julietta's bulk made him almost impossible to maneuver, but he was able to stumble past the threshold and follow his daughter into the little apartment.

"Where do you want him?" Shiro wheezed.

Grumbling and scratching her head, Maki mumbled, "I guess the only place I _can _put him is the bed." Leading her father and his unconventional baggage into her cramped room, she yanked the sheets from her mattress and motioned for him to place Sakamoto down. Said creep rolled off of Shiro's back with a graceless flop, his large form barely fitting on the narrow bed.

'I had thought this room looked tiny before,' Maki sulked, realizing – with no small amount of distaste – that she would have to be in close proximity with this jerk for some time. 'I suppose I can do my homework in the kitchen or the living area…'

Righting himself with a stretch, Shiro told her, "He isn't all that high maintenance. You just need to make sure he gets lots of water and feed him. Like I said, he won't be here long."

Maki still couldn't quite believe she was allowing this to happen. Yet, she would make it work, for the sake of her apartment. She could easily set up camp in the living area, and the couch – while it was quite short and not all that comfortable – would do as her bed for a time.

But she could think on all that later. Right now, there was a little matter of money to settle.

"How much do you have on you right now?" she queried, eyes slanting toward the tanned male standing next to her.

Shiro hummed, taking his wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a wad of bills. "I'm not entirely-"

"This will do for now," she interrupted, snatching the money from his hand and counting it quickly. "You'll need to come by soon with more, though."

"How much more?" he asked nervously.

"Well… this should cover my rent for the month, but I have bills that need paying, and I'll need money for food. I don't know exactly how much he eats, so that will be a bit extra."

Sighing tiredly, the boxer pulled a hand through his shaggy hair and nodded. "I'll stop in tomorrow with more." Then, with a quirk of his brow, he asked, "How did you manage to get so behind on money?"

Scowling, Maki placed the stack of cash on her dresser and snapped, "None of your business. Now, if you don't mind, get out; I have shit to do."

"You really need to stop swearing, it's unladylike."

"Oh, shut up!"

Gripping the back of her father's shirt, the young woman towed him roughly out of her room and back to the entryway. With a hard jerk, Maki pulled the front door open and pushed Shiro outside. She made to slam it, but after a second of consideration she poked her head out and told her father, "Just so you know, if he _does _try anything with me, you're getting your ass kicked too."

Before he had a chance to respond, she pushed the heavy door shut with a satisfying 'wham', wandering back into her bedroom to where her unwanted houseguest was sleeping. She placed one hand over the little pile of funds with a relieved sigh, grateful that she had more time to sort out her money issues. Then, frowning, she allowed her eyes to fall upon the unkempt mess of a man lying on her mattress.

"Now I just have to figure out how the hell I'm going to stomach you," she mused aloud, head beginning to hurt at the thought of such a daunting task. One thing was certain: her life was about to get _a_ _lot _more complicated.

**Oh what fun! Just think of all the ways he's going to bug the shit out of her! I wonder how long it'll be before he earns himself a beat-down… **

**Let me know if you have any questions or concerns! I'll get back to you as soon as humanly possible. Much love for reading!**


	3. When In Doubt

**Disclaimer: I do not own AirMaster.**

**When In Doubt…**

Eight-thirty…

Four hours had passed since she'd first arrived home and her good-for-nothing father had popped in with his little 'favor', and all she'd accomplished thus far was a call to the landlord, informing him that she had his rent money, and would be delivering it tomorrow morning. Aside from that, she'd done little else but stare pensively at the still unconscious man laying atop her tiny bed.

Thankfully he had yet to wake up… or move… or groan… or _anything_, really. The only reason she was able to tell that he was even alive at all was the steady rise and fall of his chest. She didn't think she was quite ready to deal with him yet. Though, she supposed, sitting on the floor and glaring at him wasn't going to get her any more prepared for _that_ ordeal.

Sighing, she pulled herself to her feet and wandered into the kitchen, finding a loaf of rye that was only half moldy stuffed in the breadbox. Salvaging what she could, she threw a couple slices in the toaster and tossed the rest.

Shuffling back to her cramped room, she decided, 'I suppose this is as good a time as any to rearrange my shit.'

Moving to her desk, she collected all of her school related papers and brought them into the living area, clearing off the cluttered coffee table with a swipe of her arm. Dirty glasses, plates, old magazines, and god knows what else fell to the floor in a disorganized heap, but she paid the mess little mind. Her apartment was already a sty, what was one more pile of trash?

She retrieved her pillows and sheets from the bedroom as well, along with a fresh change of clothing and her alarm clock. Organizing the living room to act as her temporary sleeping quarters didn't take long, her toast popping just as she finished resetting her alarm.

Settling herself on the couch with supper in hand, Maki allowed herself a quick peek at her new houseguest, grateful to find he hadn't moved an inch. Sighing, she took a bite out of her unbuttered toast, grimacing at how dry it was. A grocery shop was definitely in order… too bad she hated shopping… and public places…

Groaning around a mouthful of half-chewed bread, the redhead closed her eyes and let her mind wander. Unsurprisingly, the first thoughts that surfaced were memories of her last encounter with the creep who now inhabited her bedroom. Her shock at his sudden appearance in her apartment, her panic at his advances, her fear of the notion that he might actually succeed in taking her virginity.

She shuddered, shaking herself from the nerve-racking train of thought. She didn't think she was ready for something like that quite yet. Hell, she'd never even seen a man's _penis _before that night. It had been, well… shocking, to say the least, and were they _all _that big?

Blushing redder than a bell pepper, Maki stuffed another bite of toast into her mouth, forcing herself to erase the memory from her mind. She was _not _going to sit around and think about Sakamoto Julietta's penis! Nope, absolutely not!

Finishing off her unorthodox and severely lacking dinner, she set her plate on the floor and brushed the crumbs from the couch, wondering whether she should take a bit of time to do some homework… or if she should just go to sleep.

Sleep sounded particularly tempting, especially considering the fact that she didn't really understand her homework… and it was likely she wouldn't be able to focus. So, decision made, she curled herself up on the little loveseat and closed her eyes, trying her damndest not to think about the jerk sleeping on her bed.

* * *

><p>"Are you alright, Maki?"<p>

"Hm?" mumbled, the blue-eyed girl, not quite having heard the question. "Sorry Yuu, I didn't catch that."

"My point exactly," she retorted. "You seemed really distracted all day, more than usual. Is everything alright?"

"You know you can tell us anything, right Maki?" Renge put-in, wide eyes clouded with concern.

Rubbing the back of her neck with a nervous chuckle, the female street fighter made a gesture that was both dismissive and reassuring. "I'm fine. I was just thinking about something, that's all; it's nothing to be concerned about."

"Is it about our biology assignment?" Michiru asked. "I remember you saying you didn't quite get what we're supposed to be doing."

"I can help you with it!" Mina offered excitedly, grasping onto Maki's arm while batting her thick, sooty lashes. "I'm really good at science!"

Laughing nervously at her friend's actions - which, more often than not, were a little too suggestive and intimate for Maki's liking - she shook her head in the negative. "No, no, it's not that. Really, guys, I'm okay! You don't have to worry about a thing!"

Frowning, Michiru crossed her arms, eyeing her redheaded friend with a calculating look. "You say that, but I don't know whether to believe you or not. Any time you have trouble you always try to handle it by yourself. You need to remember that that's what friends are for, Maki; if you need help, you should let us support you."

It was certainly a sweet sentiment, but she honestly didn't know if telling them would be such a good idea. There was really nothing any of them could do to help her or change the situation, so it was probably best to keep it to herself for now. She imagined the only thing it would succeed in doing would be to freak them all out unnecessarily, and she didn't want to do that. Mina would likely throw a fit. She could just see the fiery, oddly possessive girl bursting through her door and attempting to strangle her slumbering guest. While she didn't really think his death would be that big of a loss, she knew her father wouldn't be too happy about losing his friend.

So, for now, she would keep Julietta's presence in her home a secret.

Smiling, the shapely teen told them one more time, "Its fine. Thanks for the offer, but it's nothing you need to concern yourselves with."

Detaching herself from Mina's surprisingly strong grip, she turned up the steps to her apartment building, calling back to them, "I'll see you all tomorrow!"

Hurrying inside before any of them had a chance to follow, she let out a relieved sigh, glad the day was finally over with. They had been right of course; she had been distracted all day, but with good reason. All she'd been able to think about was Julietta waking up while she wasn't home and going through her stuff. The idea of him rummaging through her panty drawer had been enough to make her feel sick, and since that point she'd been jittery and unfocused.

Bolting up the last flight of stairs, Maki shoved her keycard into the slot and pulled her door open, racing inside and coming to a sliding halt in the frame of her bedroom door.

He hadn't budged.

Slumping to the floor with a mixture of thankfulness and slight frustration, the girl with cherry-red hair slapped a hand to her face and let loose a few pent up curses. While it was reassuring to know he hadn't done anything while she was away, it was a bit of a piss-off to know that she'd spent the entire day being worried over nothing. Scowling, she stuck her tongue out at the large male sprawled across her bed before making her way back to the front door – still ajar from her hasty entrance.

As she approached, she noticed a thick envelope on the floor with her name on it. Beneath, in writing that was messy and decidedly male, was a note that read:

_You didn't give me a specific number, but this should be enough to get you through the rest of the month. If you need more, call me._

_Love, Papa_

'Papa?' she cringed, hating the term immensely. She didn't know if he called himself that to be cute, or if he was just trying to rile her up.

Shrugging, she peeled open the envelope and poured its contents into her palm, giving a satisfied hum when she flipped through the bundle of bills and found it was more than enough to last her the month.

"Looks like its takeout tonight!'" she declared excitedly. Then, as an afterthought, "I wonder what _he _likes…"

Peeking into her room quickly, she found he was – unsurprisingly – unmoved. 'It doesn't matter. He can eat whatever I buy, and if he doesn't like it… tough shit, I guess.'

Stepping a little further into the room, she lifted a leg and prodded Julietta in the knee with her toe, wondering how much longer he would stay asleep. 'Is it healthy to sleep this long?'

Maki heaved an uncertain sigh, still not sure whether she'd made the right choice by taking him in. Sure the money was needed, but what was this little endeavor going to do to her nerves? She hadn't the faintest clue what she was going to do with him once he woke up. He would likely be insufferable. She hoped he wouldn't want to… talk to her, or any other such nonsense! Good god, wouldn't that be _horrid_?

Shaking her head, the tall, curvy teen went about fishing for her telephone amidst the mess that was her living space. She was _starving_, and the sooner she ordered her food and ate, the sooner she could get to work on her biology project… which she had no idea how to start.

**Ta-da! So, there's the next little installment. No, nothing of great import happens, but in real life, not every day is a rollercoaster of excitement, and I'm trying to be realistic. Anywho, tell me what you think, if you have a spare minute. Catch any spelling mistakes, grammatical errors? Anything?**

**Much love for reading!**


	4. Knock Him Out

**Dislaimer: I do not own AirMaster.**

…**Knock Him Out**

Maki paused in the savoring of a particularly delicious dumpling when a low moan broke the silence of her apartment. Leaning back to peer through the kitchen and into her bedroom, she gave a small grunt of displeasure when she noted her 'company' was beginning to wake.

Setting down her chopsticks and wiping her hands uncaringly on the sofa cushions, she stood and made her way into the cramped room, shooting her unwanted company a contemptuous glare. He shifted minimally atop her mattress, face scrunching in distress as another deep moan slipped from his lips. Maki cringed when his eyes began to flutter open, having dreaded this confrontation from the very first moment she agreed to look after him.

'Remember the money,' she reminded herself.

"M-Maki?"

Sighing, she glanced down at the shaggy man on her bed, brow furrowing in irritation when a crooked smile spread across his mouth.

"What a beautiful dream this is," he murmured drowsily, gazing at her in a way that made her both uncomfortable and nauseous.

Growling softly at his idiocy, she informed him tersely, "This isn't a dream."

He frowned minimally, a thoughtful expression marking his features as his eyes drifted away for a moment. When they returned to her, a serene light flickered from their depths, and he lifted a hand toward her. "Then… I have died and entered nirvana, for yours is surely the face of an angel."

Blushing and sputtering embarrassedly, Maki snapped, "You're not dead, either!" In her mind, a little voice crowed that she certainly wished he _would_ just drop dead.

The disoriented man glanced slowly around the room, recognizing the small space with a mild burst of surprise. "How did-"

"Shiro brought you here," she interrupted, crossing her arms under her bosom.

"Shiro?"

"He can't keep you at his place anymore, so he asked me to look after you 'til you're healed," she explained, not enjoying the way his eyes kept wandering to less than wholesome places. "Hey! I'm up here!" she rebuked, pointing sourly to her face.

Grinning widely, he queried, "You would do that for me?"

Scowling, she brusquely informed him, "I'm _not_ doing it for you, and I'm not doing it for Shiro, either! I'm doing this because I need the money, so don't get any ridiculous ideas!"

Smile never wavering, Julietta crooned, "Regardless, please allow me to repay you for your kindness."

Maki didn't think she wanted to know what his idea of 'payment' was.

"You're in no shape to be doing much of anything right now. Besides, the only thing I want from you is for you to behave yourself," she told him. "This whole thing will be over and done with soon enough, and then you can get the hell out of my apartment and allow me to get on with my life."

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, groaning when his ribs screamed in protest.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Shiro said you had some broken ribs… you'd better take it easy. I don't want you buggering yourself up even more." She gave him a quick once over, wondering aloud, "What other injuries do you have?"

The large man hummed pensively, lowering himself back onto the mattress as he recalled, "A pulled leg muscle."

Pursing her lips when she remembered that Sakamoto had been delivered to her as is, Maki asked, "Do you have crutches or anything like that?"

He shook his head. "No. It's nothing too serious."

Huffing, the buxom teen ordered, "Just make sure you keep your weight off of it, and try not to do too much bending!"

Chuckling deeply, Julietta purred, "So thoughtful."

Flushing, Maki stomped her foot and snapped, "That's enough of that!"

Pivoting on her heel, she marched into the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water, grumbling when she realized she'd used her last clean cup. Plates and bowls and numerous empty takeout containers lined the counter, cluttering the small space to the point that she couldn't even _see_ her countertop anymore. 'Looks like I've got some clean-up to do.'

Returning to the bedside, she placed the glass on a nightstand and queried, "Here. Need anything else?"

"Not at the moment. Water will be fine."

Nodding jerkily, she mumbled, "Alright then, get some more rest. Call if you need me."

As she turned to leave, a strong hand on her elbow pulled her back, dragging her down onto the mattress next to the disheveled male. "What the hell?"

Eyes gleaming, Sakamoto pressed one hand to the small of her back while the other caressed her face, uttering softly, "Don't leave yet; I've been longing to see you, Maki."

"Get your damn hands off!"

"Don't fight me. I want only to express my undying love for you, to take you to the very heights of euphoria and further still! To the stars, together, and the ends of the universe!"

Slapping his hands away and leaping off of the bed, the indignant young woman shrieked, "Is that all you ever think about, you unrelenting pervert?"

She was amazed and appalled at his fortitude. Broken ribs and a pulled leg muscle, and _still _he was trying to get fresh with her! Any other man would have likely been in too much pain to budge, never mind _put the moves_ on a girl.

Placing a hand over his heart, said pervert informed her, "When you are near, it is impossible to think of anything else."

She adjusted her clothing, feeling mussed and violated from the encounter. His insistent fingers had been _everywhere_, a fact that was both disturbing and surprising, considering the fact that she'd only been beside him for a handful of seconds. 'What the hell, is my bra undone?'

Growling, the redhead snapped, "You'd better learn to keep your hands to yourself, or I'm going to strangle you and then toss you off the balcony!"

"Ah, so coy, yet fiery. It only serves to endear me to you further."

A swift elbow to the side of the head was more than enough to silence his ridiculous blabbering, the curvaceous teen heaving a sigh of relief when the large male fell unconscious once again. Any more of that and she was going to be sick.

Stomping out of the room with a shake of her head, Maki wondered how much longer she'd be able to deal with his insanity before she genuinely killed him. Friend of her father or not, there was no way she was going to put up with any more of that grabby bullshit! The next time he touched her inappropriately, she was going to snap something off… and it wouldn't necessarily be his hand.

**Oh, Sakamoto, you just can't behave yourself, can you? Well, it's a good thing; otherwise this story would be quite bland. **

**Much love to my readers! Feel free to leave a review and give my ego a good stroke. ;P **


	5. You Want Me To Do What?

**Ugh, sorry this took so long. I'm sure a few of you thought me dead! Rest assured, I am alive, and I am NOT abandoning the story or any such nonsense. I've been having a lot of trouble with my computer, and it's finally kicked the bucket on me. Sooooo, that means I can only update if I have access to a friend's computer – or something – which means updates will be scarce. :( Even more so than usual…**

**Anywho, I hope you enjoy the installment. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own AirMaster.**

**You Want Me To Do _What_?**

Sounds of her unwanted houseguest stirring had Maki pausing in her task, looking up from the sink and toward the door. Groaning when she saw Sakamoto's foot move, the redhead resumed scrubbing the plate she'd been washing before placing it in the drying rack.

'If he needs something, he'll call,' she reasoned, not wanting to go into the bedroom unless she absolutely had to.

Then, as luck would have it - bad luck, that is – she heard the soft utterance of her name, shoulders hunching in irritation at the sound.

'Maybe he's just having a gross dream about me,' the teen thought hopefully, although the idea of him having dirty dreams about her rubbed her entirely the wrong way.

Again she heard him call her name, and – groaning in defeat – she dropped her sponge in the sudsy water and dried her hands on a dish towel, scowling as she made her way into her _guest's _temporary sleeping quarters.

Poking her head through the door, she clipped a terse, "What?"

Sakamoto tilted his head to look at her, rubbing the spot on his temple where she'd struck him earlier.

Grinning, she told him, "I hope you have a headache; it would serve you right! No more of that pervy bullshit, or I'll do it again… only harder."

Blinking bleary eyes, the shaggy man groaned softly, as he did indeed have a splitting headache.

Lips pouting in irritation as the silence between them began to stretch, Maki shouted, "Is there something you needed, or are you just trying to be a pain in my ass?"

He pushed himself onto his elbows, frowning as he mumbled, "I-I have…to…"

Getting tired of waiting, she snapped, "Have to what?"

"… go to the washroom."

Both occupants of the room stared at one another for a long while, the silence broken only by the grinding of teeth.

Unclenching her jaw, Maki asked sharply, "What exactly does that have to do with me?"

"Could you help me to-"

"No!" she cut him off abruptly and angrily. "Absolutely, one-hundred percent, no way in hell!"

He gave her a look that some might have described as innocent – though she knew otherwise – and reminded her, "You instructed me to keep my weight off of my leg. All I ask for is assistance in keeping upright; nothing more. If I try to walk on my own, I will likely worsen my injuries."

The buxom redhead crossed her arms, lips thinning as she mulled over his words. He was right, she realized sourly, and if he hurt himself further, that meant he'd be staying longer.

Huffing, she clipped, "I'll help you there, but that's it!"

He smiled, giving her a hazy-eyed look that made her want to throw up… or kick him in the head… the latter sounded far more appealing. Forcing down her immense dislike of the creepy man, she made her way to his side, awkwardly sliding an arm under his back to help him up. If his injured ribs caused him any pain, he didn't show it, and for a split second, she was impressed. Broken ribs were nothing to scoff at, yet he hadn't once complained about his discomfort.

He placed one long arm over her shoulders and pulled himself to his feet, balancing his weight on his uninjured leg. Slowly, awkwardly, they hobbled from her room and into the bathroom, his substantial weight almost toppling her a time or two.

When they finally reached their destination, Maki all but shoved him off of her, slamming the bathroom door behind her as she left. She stood just outside, shuffling uncomfortably when she heard the telltale sound of a zipper and the rustle of his pants. Flushing, the young redhead crossed her arms and tuned out the sounds, waiting for him to call her back in.

'Didn't that dirt bag father of mine say he was supposed to be low maintenance? Really _easy_ to take care of?' she groused, recalling Shiro's words when he'd left Sakamoto with her. 'This can hardly be called low maintenance. I really hope he doesn't expect me to give him sponge baths or anything like that.'

That final thought was accompanied by a small shudder. She could only imagine the perverse things he would try to pull in that sort of situation.

The toilet flushed, and her cue for entrance came in the form of a deep utterance of her name, Julietta's voice reverberating in the small, tiled space of her bathroom. Sighing, she reentered, stepping up alongside him and offering her shoulder for support. Curling an arm around his middle, she led him back into the bedroom, lowering him onto the mattress before stepping back and asking waspishly, "Anything else?"

His stomach answered for him, the loud gurgle making her grunt in irritation. Turning on her heel, she stomped into the kitchen, fishing a takeout container from the fridge, as well as set of half-dried chopsticks from the sink. She felt like a bloody maid, running around like this, heeding his every beck and call. The thought was paired with an embarrassing image of herself in one of those skimpy maid outfits, the barely-there skirt hiding nothing of her unusually long legs. She bet the damned pervert taking up residence on her bed would just _looooove_ to see that.

Resisting the urge to crush the box in her hand, she reminded herself, 'Think of the money. You're in it for the money.'

Quashing the disturbing mental picture, she breathed deeply through her nose and headed back into the bedroom, setting box and chopsticks down – harder than necessary – on the nightstand next to the bed.

She glared expectantly at him, fierce blue eyes daring him to ask for anything else. When he remained silent, she spun and strode determinedly back into the living room, choosing to ignore the soft chuckle that followed in her wake.

**There we are. *yawn* Time for sleep…^w^ zzz**


	6. When Does the Nightmare End?

**Disclaimer: I own nussing! Nussing!**

**When Does the Nightmare End?  
><strong>

Waking with a start, Maki pushed herself up and wiped the sweat from her brow, images from her nightmare still clear in her mind. She thumbed a tear from her eye as her mother's face flashed behind her eyes, growling in frustration. She hated these damn dreams.

Drowsily she looked around, frowning when she noted she was in the living room. "What the hell am I doing out here?" she muttered to herself, still half asleep.

'Must've fallen asleep while trying to figure out my homework again,' she deduced. It hadn't been the first time. Yawning, she pulled herself from the lumpy couch and stumbled toward the bedroom, noting with a groan that the sky was beginning to lighten.

'I guess I should get dressed.'

Nearly tripping over her own feet as she moved sluggishly toward her dresser, Maki snatched a pair of socks and some clean underwear from the second drawer and set them on top of it, wondering idly where she'd put her uniform and bra. They were usually tossed haphazardly across the nightstand. Shrugging, she pulled off her sleeping tank, tossing it into the laundry hamper before giving a languid stretch. She was just about to peel off her underwear when she caught sight of the man on her bed, staring back at her with wide eyes full of wonderment.

She flushed hotly when she recalled her state of undress, mortification and nausea hitting her like a swift kick in the gut. Julietta Sakamoto was in her room… she was in nothing but her undies… and he was gawking at her tits.

"What the hell?" she shrieked, fist swinging out instinctively. She clocked him in the face, snapping his head to the side.

Scrambling back, she snatched a dirty shirt and pair of sweats from the hamper and threw them hastily on. Julietta recovered just as quickly, glancing back over at her in adoration. His nose was dribbling blood, but did nothing to wipe the stupid grin from his face.

"Such beauty."

"Shut up!" Maki growled, hands running through her disheveled hair as she tried sorting out her scattered thoughts.

'That's right… he's staying with me. Shit… I must've been half-asleep to forget something like _that_. And now he's seen me practically naked… again. Just great.'

She threw him a quick glance, and – upon finding his gaze _still_ fixed on her – shouted, "Stop staring at me, pervert!"

He smiled in what could have been a charming way – had she not known he was a raging horn-dog – and replied, "Having just seen a vision of such loveliness, I find myself unable to do anything else."

Grimacing, she grabbed her socks and underwear from the dresser, recalling that she had left her other garments on the coffee table. Stomping from her room, she hissed over her shoulder, "Fuckin' creep!"

Maki had never been all that punctual when it came to school, but that morning she couldn't get out the door fast enough. She practically flew down the nineteen flights of stairs – that damn elevator was still broken – and took off at a jog, needing to put more distance between herself and her apartment (and the cretin residing within). It was only when the building was out of sight that she slowed, sighing in relief when she stopped at an intersection.

'So good to be away from him,' she thought with a smile. 'It'll be nice to have the apartment to myself again once this is over… though, that'll mean finding a new source of income.'

Her optimism at having escaped Sakamoto's presence was quickly overshadowed by the notion that she would need to look for a job. She hadn't the slightest clue where to begin.

The light shifted to green, and she – along with a throng of other pedestrians – began bustling across the street.

"Maki! Wait up!"

Pausing at the sound of her name, she looked over her shoulder, smiling at the animated group of girls that were currently pushing through the crowd to get to her.

"Morning!" beamed Michiru.

"Good morning," she replied in a muted tone, grinning at Renge as the boisterous teen latched onto her leg.

"I'm starving! We should stop for a bite before we head to school!" the diminutive female all but shouted.

"Didn't you just eat before you left home?" Yuu laughed. "You're such a little piglet, Renge."

"I'm a growing girl," she informed them with a pout.

"Yeah, sure. We're still waiting for this _supposed _growth spurt to begin," the tanned teen rejoined, sticking her tongue out when Renge made a face at her.

Maki gave a small hum of contentment, glad to have such cheerful, lively friends to distract her from the negative things in her life. She couldn't have asked for anything more… well, maybe a job, but that was another matter.

"What's wrong?"

Blinking, she looked down at the indigo-eyed clinger at her knee. "Huh?"

"You look upset," Renge elucidated.

Did she? She hadn't realized she'd been frowning.

"I'm just thinking about finding a part-time job, and I don't really know where to start looking," she confessed.

"My father knows the owners of a few restaurants," Mina put in. "I could get him to ask if any of them are looking for help in the kitchens."

Maki grimaced. "I can't cook… and I think I would be a terrible server, too."

Yuu tapped her foot thoughtfully. "Hmm… you're not much for communicating either, are you?"

Maki shook her head.

"This is gunna be tricky," the auburn-haired girl muttered.

"Don't worry!" Michiru chirped. "We'll find you a job; it'll just take some time to figure out what works for you!"

The tall redhead gave a smile of appreciation, feeling much better about the affair now that she had someone to help her. If only she could find someone to help her cope with this mess involving Julietta…

'Maybe I _should_ just strangle him and put him out of _my misery_,' she mused, considering the idea briefly.

'No… too much follow-up work,' she decided, somewhat crestfallen. If she were to end his horrid life, she would need to find somewhere to hide the body and make sure there was no evidence left lying around… it sounded like one helluva headache, and the blue-eyed street fighter had never really been fond of those.

**O_o I… hope that was a passable chapter. **

**Anywho, review if you feel like it.**


	7. Please Do Shut Up

**Disclaimer: I don't own AirMaster. **

**We get a look at Sakamoto's POV this chapter.**

**Please, Do Shut Up**

While she was normally ecstatic for the arrival of the weekend – her favorite time of the week, as it meant she could be as lazy as she wanted – Maki found herself actually dreading the break in school days. Her friends were all busy, which meant she would be at home… with _him_. The notion made her cringe.

'Maybe I could just sleep through it,' she pondered, but quickly dismissed the idea. Knowing Julietta, she would likely wake with him on top of her… _naked; _the thought made her want to purge.

The pervert in question chose that moment to rouse, softly calling her name as he joined the world of the living. She groaned, pulling herself from the couch and trudging into the bedroom.

"What'd you want?"

Smiling at the lovely young redhead, Sakamoto replied, "A glass of water would be wonderful, and – if you don't mind – something to eat."

Scowling, Maki retreated into the kitchen and filled a glass with tap water, returning only to place it on the nightstand before heading back into the other room. She'd eaten out with her friends the night before, so there was no leftover takeout to offer him. She'd have to _make_ something, she realized with a groan.

Pulling a cup of ramen from the cupboard, she peeled back the lid and added water, sticking it in the microwave for the allotted time. She leaned against the counter as the noodles cooked, crossing her arms in irritation. She _hated _cooking, even with the microwave. No matter how basic the instructions, she always seemed to mess it up.

Sighing as the timer beeped, she returned to her bedridden houseguest – noodles in hand – and placed them next to the now empty glass.

"Give it a minute to soak," she told him as she left, ignoring the thankful words he crooned at her.

She'd nearly made it back to the kitchen – having planned on making some ramen of her own – when he called for her again, making her frown in irritation. What did he want now?

"What?" she snapped as she poked her head back in the bedroom.

"I need to use the restroom."

"_Again?_" she groused, rolling her eyes and groaning as she moved to help him stand. She noticed that he seemed to maneuver a bit better this time around – a definite good sign. He was improving. So, with that positive note in mind, she maneuvered him to the washroom, helping him return to the bed again once he was done.

Hands on her hips, she asked, "Need anything else?"

He blinked thoughtfully, replying after a minute, "I feel far better today. Do you have a book, or something of that nature?"

Maki shook her head. "I don't have any books, aside from my school texts. I have a few old magazines, but I doubt you'd like them."

He gave pause, a sly smile curving over his lips as he ventured, "Perhaps you could keep me company?"

Eyes bulging, the tall young woman took a step backward, hands balling into fists as she hissed, "I don't think so."

Spying the remote on the dresser, she snatched it and threw it in his direction, smiling wickedly when it bounced off his forehead and landed in his lap. "Watch some TV."

With that she made a hasty exit, retreating back to the relative privacy of her living space.

Julietta watched her leave, sighing in both disappointment and adoration as she did so. He hated to see her go, but the view was simply stunning. The short glimpse of her firm, perfectly curved backside made his heart quicken, a dazed expression overcoming his features as he imagined how it might feel in his large hands.

Reluctantly he withdrew from the pleasant little daydream, looking down at the remote settled in his lap. He had never been one for television, preferring to read, or – if his muse was feeling generous – write a little something of his own. However, it seemed he would have to make do with what he had for now.

Turning on the small TV – which was sorely in need of a good dusting, he noted – he flipped through the channels, hoping to find something worth watching.

Shifting as he searched, Julietta grunted in mild discomfort at the pain in his ribs. Perhaps he would meditate sometime that day – it would certainly expedite the healing process a little. It had been some time since he'd been wakeful enough to focus on channeling his ki.

Finding nothing of interest on the television, he switched it off and set the remote on the nightstand, deciding now was as good a time as any to meditate. He pulled himself into a lotus pose, his leg stiffening in protest. Rearranging himself into a looser, more comfortable version of the position, Sakamoto closed his eyes and blocked out the world around him, breathing deeply as he sought out the stream of energy within himself.

Maki sighed a breath of relief when silence reigned, having heard the TV shut off and fearing her needy guest would want something else from her. She didn't really care what he was doing in there, just so long as he wasn't pestering her. She had homework to try and sort through, after all, and that promised to take up the better part of her afternoon.

* * *

><p>Julietta leaned back against his pillow in respite, feeling notably better. If he continued to utilize his healing capabilities once a day, he would likely be fully healed within the month. Of course, continuing to channel his ki for said purpose would mean leaving the fiery redhead sooner rather than later.<p>

'Perhaps once every other day,' he surmised with a small nod. That way he could double his time with the woman he so adored. The pain didn't really bother him, after all – he'd learned a long time ago how to block the sensation.

The rustling of paper and a low, feminine grumble pulled his attention from his musings and toward the door, the sounds of his reluctant caretaker bringing a serene smile to his face. He was still very much awake, and found himself rather bored at the moment. It was definitely time to indulge in his favorite guilty pleasure.

"Maki," he called lowly, laughing when he heard her curse and shuffle about before stomping her way toward the bedroom. She appeared in the doorframe, vibrant cherry tresses in charming disarray.

"What?"

"May I have another drink?"

She snatched the glass from the nightstand with a glower and a growl, turning and storming into the kitchen. When she returned and stooped to set the cup down next to the bed, he leaned forward to sniff her hair discretely, sighing at the fresh, airy aroma. She may have lived in her own squalor, but she always smelled delightfully clean, like rain.

Pulling back before she could catch him, Julietta flashed her a grateful smile and reached for his glass, making a show of drinking greedily – as though he'd actually been thirsty.

She turned to leave, and he inquired softly, "What are you doing?"

"_Leaving_," she snipped.

"I was referring to what you were doing before I called for you," he elucidated with a smile.

God, that smile rubbed her all the wrong ways! Maki crossed her arms with a huff, replying, "_Trying_ to do my homework, but it's kinda hard when _someone _refuses to leave me alone."

"Seemed you were having a bit of trouble even _without_ my interruptions," he commented lowly, knowing the comment would stir her anger.

Stiffening, she shouted, "Just shut up and leave me alone!"

"I could help you with it?" he offered.

She curled her lip at him in distaste, hissing, "No."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"_Yes_. So you _would_ like my help?"

"NO! I meant yes, I'm certain I DON'T want your help!"

"I was only confirming; no need to shout."

Maki was a few seconds away from leaping across the room and stuffing the entirety of her foot in his mouth. He smiled crookedly at her expression, and suddenly she understood that he was baiting her.

"You!" she shouted. "You were doing that on purpose!"

He chuckled, admitting shamelessly, "You're so lovely when you're riled."

"Would you like to be strangled?"

"Not particularly, no."

Teeth clicking shut, the tall redhead drew in a deep breath through her nostrils, reminding herself that he was trying to get a rise out of her. 'Don't give him the satisfaction.'

Pinning him with a serious look, she pointed a finger in his direction and told him, "I'm going back into the living room to finish my homework, and _you _will not call me back for anything else. I'll bring you something to eat later, and if you have to use the washroom… you're on your own."

She turned and stepped out the door, stopping only to threaten him with bodily harm if he disregarded her warning.

Julietta sighed as she disappeared, loving the way her glittering sapphire eyes darkened with her anger. Would they change in such a way during the throes of passion, he wondered. Smiling, he relaxed against the small bed, letting himself get swept up in his fantasy.

**Hope you enjoyed it. I know nothing monumental has happened yet, but as I said earlier, this has a rather slow start – the building of a foundation, if you will. Things start to pick up from here.**

**Review plz? **


	8. Kaori Sakiyama, Fangirl?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Air Master.**

**Kaori Sakiyama, Fangirl…?**

For some, the warm weather may have been pleasant, but to Maki it was anything but. After having to deal with her impromptu 'house guest' for the entirety of the weekend, she was tired and ill-tempered, and wholly unwelcoming of the sun's cheery rays. Not only were they entirely too bright for her liking, but they seemed to almost mock her with their brilliance, completely contradicting her current mood.

Pulling a hand through her short red hair, she heaved a grouchy sigh, squinting through bleary eyes at Yuu as she relayed the highlights of her weekend.

"The place was crawling with hotties! You couldn't walk a foot without bumping into a cute guy!"

Michiru grumbled sourly, bemoaning, "Lucky! The family reunion was a total snore-fest! They had it at some lame camp out in the middle of nowhere, so I couldn't even ditch! It sucked! This weird kid – I think he's like a second cousin or something – kept following me around; it was really creepy."

Maki half listened to the girls talk, not speaking until Mina turned to her and asked, "What did you do this weekend?"

She floundered for a moment, but pulled herself together enough to stammer, "Y-y'know, nothing much. Just-just stayed home."

They nodded and went about conversing, and she let out a shuddering breath of relief. If any of them knew she'd spent her time playing host to Mr. Psycho-Pervert, she was sure they'd die of shock.

She frowned as she recalled her time alone with him these past two days, noting that he certainly seemed in better health than when he'd first arrived. While that was a definite good thing, it came with a hefty dose of cons as well; mainly that he had made a habit of pissing her off every chance he got. If he wasn't goading her into an argument or teasing her until her face turned red, he was trying to cop a feel, and it had grated away much of her patience – not that she had an abundance to begin with.

Yuu paused, pointing toward a large crowd of people that had gathered along the sidewalk. "What's going on up there?"

A distraught cry had the throng parting, people scattering to avoid the battered man that flew through the air and skidded across the pavement.

"A fight!" Renge shouted excitedly, eyes darting from the unconscious man to the figure standing within the ring of onlookers.

Michiru squinted at the fighter, thinking to herself that he looked immensely familiar. A light bulb went on in her head. "Oh, hey – it's that guy from the restaurant! That jerk who made Renge cry!"

"Yah!" Yuu hissed, recognition setting in. "That guy was a total asshole!"

Said asshole chose that moment to glance in their direction, the girls tensing as he narrowed his eyes at them.

"Do you think he heard you?" Mina whispered nervously.

"Shit, he's coming over!" Yuu shreiked, gripping Michiru by the arm and giving her a panicked shake.

"You!" the scowling, purple haired fighter shouted as he marched toward them, brushing by the others to stand before Maki. Behind him, they sighed in relief.

Maki stared at the young man, brow quirking at the look of fierce determination on his face. "Do I know you?"

He seemed surprised by the statement, and then mildly annoyed.

Frowning, he questioned, "You don't recognise me?"

"Would I be asking if I did?" she rejoined blandly.

"I am Yoshinori Konishi, former third in the Fukamichi Rankings!"

She blinked slowly. "And?"

He growled, fists balling as he reminded her, "You and your friends ate dinner with Shiro and me!"

She shrugged. "Not ringin' any bells."

Furious at the fact that she didn't remember him – he, a shining example of the perfect fighter – Yoshinori shouted, "How can you not know who I am?! Are you stupid or something?!"

Maki frowned, responding, "I've met a lot of fighters, and I forget most of them. If I don't know who you are, it's probably because you're not worth remembering."

He had no immediate response to that, though she could tell he was angry, even more so than before. His face was turning a peculiar shade of red, the veins in his forehead bulging as his eyes widened. Whatever he was trying to say came out as a strangled exhalation.

"I think he's going to blow up," Renge stated nervously, stepping backward.

"Y-You! How can you- Not worthy? _Not worthy?!_ How _dare_ you?!" he finally shrieked, trembling in his rage. "I train harder than any fighter I've ever met! I have perfected my technique! I'm perfect! _Perfect!_"

"Whatever," Maki droned, getting fed up with this entire ordeal. She made to walk past the irate man, scowling when he stepped into her path.

"Move," she told him icily.

"I challenge you to a fight, Air Master! I'll show you my perfection!" he declared, smirking.

"Why do you care so much?!" she asked snappishly, annoyed at his pushiness.

He seemed almost hesitant to answer her at first, looking down at the ground with a sour expression. "I need to make up for a loss, need to prove to myself that I lost because of a fluke. It _had to be_ a fluke! There's no way Sakamoto would best me otherwise!"

That cleared the cobwebs right out of her head, eyes sharpening as the name repeated over and over in her mind. 'That's right… Shiro said something about that when he dropped Julietta off. He's the reason…'

Here, in front of her, was the person responsible for Julietta's injuries; the sole reason she was forced to house her own stalker! Here was the cause of her headache, her unrest, her irritation! She was itching to let off some steam, and he was the perfect person to help her with her little dilemma. It was almost as if Fate had kindly dropped him into her lap, and she wasn't foolish enough to let that kind of opportunity slip through her fingers.

"You want a fight?" she asked darkly, leaning in close. "Let's do it."

He seemed to light up at that, prancing back a few steps and tucking into a few routine stretches. The redhead watched him, standing motionless as her opponent went through a brief warm-up before moving into a defensive stance.

"Go, Maki!" cheered Michiru.

"You're in for a world of hurt, buddy!" Yuu taunted. "She kicked Sakamoto's ass, and she'll kick yours too!"

He scowled. "You fought Julietta Sakamoto?"

"Uh-huh! She won; unlike you!" Renge hollered.

He snorted. "Yeah, well… it wasn't exactly a decisive victory. He might have knocked me out, but he walked away from that fight with a lot more injuries than I did."

"A win is a win," Maki told him with a shrug. "What happens afterward doesn't really matter."

Yoshinori growled, squatting low. "Shut up! I'll show you just how _good I am_!"

She smiled, glad the pointless talking was finally done with.

"Not good enough!"

Maki could have groaned. Why – of all the people in the world – did _she _have to show up right now?

"Who the hell are you?" Yoshinori asked as he eyed the woman who'd stepped from the crowd.

"Glad you asked," responded the newcomer with a flick of short, brown hair. "_I_ am Kaori Sakiyama, model, actor, fighter – a triple threat, you could say."

"I don't care about that! What the hell do you want?" the frowning man snapped.

She flashed a smug grin. "I just want to make sure you're perfectly aware of the fact that you don't stand a chance against the Air Master."

He scoffed. "I doubt that. I'll pick her apart, just like every other fighter I've gone up against."

"The Air Master isn't 'every other fighter'," Kaori told him confidently. "She's like nothing you've ever faced before. I've seen you fight, and I know how you operate. You base all of your attacks on your ability to predict your opponent's moves, and then place yourself in their path to neutralise them."

"What's your point?!"

She laughed, lifting a finger to her chin. "What will you do, I wonder, when you find you can't figure out where she's going to move next?"

Yoshinori frowned, confused.

"Silly boy… you've never fought an opponent who can fly…"

His eyes shot wide, gaze swinging back to the still form of the girl he was about to fight. He'd heard rumor that she was fast and unpredictable, that she could fly, but that was impossible… right? No one could _fly_…

"Go, Air Master!" Kaori shouted enthusiastically, throwing a fist in the air.

Not far off, the girls gawked.

"Is she off her meds or something?" Yuu asked.

"Such a drama queen," Michiru sighed.

"Are we going to fight or what?!" Maki demanded, getting sick of putting this off. She wanted to vent, and this was dragging on waaaaay too long.

Yoshinori blinked, nodding vigorously. "Yeah."

Her heart hammered in her chest, her pulse racing, breath quick. The air shifted around her, caressed her face as she smiled at her opponent – the cause of her torment. "Good."

**Ohhh, CR, you b**ch! How could you leave them at a cliffie after taking months to update?! :P Don't sweat it, the next one will be up much sooner. **

**Hope you enjoyed it… **


	9. Not Quite Perfect

**Disclaimer: I do not own Air Master.**

**Not Quite Perfect**

The world faded, a dull canvas that blurred and melted into muted shades of gray, the roaring sounds of the city dimming to a quite hum in her ears. Everything fell away, until nothing but the two of them existed.

Adrenaline shot through her veins, her body warming, _tightening_ in preparation. She adored the feeling, the building of some great, unspeakable wildness within her begging to be released. In these final few moments before the fight, she felt suspended. It was infinite and endless, so beautiful it made her want to weep. The pleasure of the tension - the anxious anticipation - was enough to make her smile.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

He didn't answer immediately, his eyes uncertain as he took her in. Then, finally, he steeled himself and responded, "Yes."

Like a spring, the tightly wound coil within her released, propelling her forward with all the speed and agility of a wolf engaging its prey. Yoshinori had barely a second to react, just missing the sweeping kick aimed at his midsection. She was off the ground before he even had a chance to slide in and plant a submission, spinning effortlessly over him, cutting through the air like a blade.

It had been too long since her last fight, too long since she felt the wind kissing her skin, the mesmerising, indescribable feeling of being airborne.

The boy was quick. When she touched down he was already there to engage her, reaching out to snag a limb and maneuver her into a finishing move. She evaded, flipping and twirling effortlessly from his grasp. Leaping, she threw an elbow into the back of his neck, knocking him to the pavement as she landed in a graceful pirouette.

Yoshinori was enraged. How the hell could she move so fast? He'd never fought anyone that could outmaneuver him! Even Julietta, though he'd won, had not been able to escape his attacks; he'd merely fought through them. This couldn't be! How the hell was this possible?!

Maki smiled, laughing to herself as she spun through another attack, dodging his hands easily.

"How?!" he shouted furiously.

The redhead stopped moving, quirking a curious brow at the sudden outburst.

"Tell me!" Yoshinori demanded when she didn't respond.

Smiling, she told him, "I feel your movements."

"What?!" he hissed, confused.

"The air shifting… it tells me where you'll go."

The violet-haired man's brows furrowed, and he repeated, "The air…? You feel the air?"

Maki nodded.

Yoshinori was astonished; he'd never heard of such a thing. No wonder he couldn't lay a hand on this girl!

Tired of waiting, she spun into motion again, her body singing its satisfaction at the freedom of such movement. When her foot made contact with his cheek the impact made her tingle, sent fissions of pleasure shooting up her leg and into her brain. There was no pain - only sensation, the feeling spreading and humming through her, setting her soul aflame.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood and a piece of chipped tooth, Yoshinori pulled himself to his feet, wincing at the lingering ache in his back. She hit just as hard as Julietta! Just who was this girl?

He looked up at his opponent, noting that she showed no sign of fatigue, no nervousness. She stood unwavering - unmoving, staring straight back at him, straight _through _him. In her eyes he could see a fierceness, and a joy that was so pure it left him shaken. He'd spent countless years training his body to fight, schooling himself into this mould of perfection, but still it wasn't enough. This woman, the Air Master, _was _the spirit of fighting, in its truest form. She seemed to exude it, thrive on it, come alive in the heat of battle! That woman was right, he never stood a chance against her.

The knowledge stung his pride, settled heavy on his heart. She seemed to see the realization as it hit him, offering a small, lopsided smile. Frowning, he pulled himself into a defensive pose, not willing to back out of the fight. If he was going to lose, he was going to do it with as much style and poise as he possibly could.

Maki blinked in minute surprise. It wasn't often you'd find a fighter that kept going when they knew loss was inevitable. A small amount of respect bloomed in her chest for the man.

Yoshinori braced when she came at him, shielding as best as he could from her vicious strikes, trying – _hoping_ to plant a submission. Again and again she evaded him, slipping through his fingers. The way she slithered out of his grasp made her seem almost intangible, like a smoky specter that disappeared whenever he grew too near.

He was tiring; it was getting to a point where he could barely keep sight of her, his vision blurring as he sagged. There was pain _everywhere_, creeping into his bones and weighing him down. When she knocked him down _again_, he struggled to regain his feet, panting hoarsely with the amount of effort it took to stand.

Laughing tiredly, he looked through his sweat-sopped purple bangs at his opponent. Her short cropped hair swayed with the wind, red like the fire in her soul. Her eyes, clear and deep as the ocean, shone with hunger and delight. She was beautiful, he noted for the first time, seeming almost otherworldly as the air danced around her, fluttering her skirt and sweeping against her skin.

"Can… can you really fly, like they say?" he panted, curious. The fight was nearing its end, he could tell, and he wanted to know – _needed_ to see it with his own eyes.

Maki smiled brightly. "I'll show you."

Yoshinori staggered back as she approached, making a desperate swipe at her as she neared – which was easily dodged. In an instant she'd gotten behind him, and was sweeping his feet out from beneath him. He fell, but instead of concrete, her feet were at his back, cushioning the descent. She grabbed hold of both arms and pulled him down, curling into a human springboard, and then… he was flying.

_Up… up… up… _

He felt weightless, the wind caressing his face as he ascended. The city faded away, the vast, endless blue sky opening up to embrace him. The feeling was… _indescribable_.

The Air Master slid into his peripheral vision. "Amazing, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he answered, glancing over at her, watching her soar gracefully upward. She seemed so comfortable, so at home up here.

"Let's finish this."

A part of him was afraid; the bitterness of defeat was still so fresh on his tongue, and he wasn't ready to taste it again. Yet, another, larger part of him was curious to see her in her element, to know her true potential. He knew she would be the one to set the bar, the one he would spend countless years training to overcome. He didn't care how long it took – he could never truly call himself perfect until he defeated the Air Master.

"Okay."

Her technique on the ground had been incredible, but there were no words for the way she moved up here. She spun and twisted, manipulating her body to use the air currents. It was an aerial dance; there was no other way to describe the flowing, graceful motions.

The first kick had enough momentum behind it to knock the breath from his lungs, the second nearly rendering him unconscious. He was helpless to stop her, like a leaf caught in a draft he was tossed about, unable to stabilize himself or move to counterattack. When her elbow connected with the back of his head, it was over.

Darkness crept along the edges of his vision, his limbs hanging limp as he began the rapid decent back to earth.

Through the tiny window of blue that pierced the shadow, he could see her flying over him, arms and legs spread, silhouette blotting out the sun. She looked something like an angel, he thought to himself as he finally slipped under.

Tucking her arms to her sides, Maki dove for her unconscious opponent, reaching out and fisting her hand in his shirtfront. Pulling him against her body, she wrapped an arm around his back, turning as the ground rushed to meet them. Grabbing hold of a conveniently placed street lamp, she swung into a flip, sighing as she landed safely on the pavement.

The crowd – having been mostly silent during the fight aside from the odd gasp – erupted into applause.

Maki knelt, carefully laying the defeated man out on the sidewalk. Her friends – and Kaori Sakiyama – rushed to surround her, cheering her praises.

"You were awesome, Maki!"

"You showed that jerk a thing'er two!"

"As always, you were exceptional, Air Master."

She ignored them, leaning in to smack the violet-haired man into consciousness. He groaned and jerked, peering up at her through bleary eyes.

"Am I dead?" he questioned.

Maki smiled and shook her head.

Yoshinori sighed. "Good. I was worried I'd never get a chance at a rematch."

She stood, a look of amusement passing over her features.

He reached out, grabbing hold of her ankle. "I will find you again, Air Master, when I'm ready to fight you."

Maki nodded. "I look forward to it, Yoshinori."

He was stunned for a moment at her response. She'd used his name; did that mean she thought him worth remembering? How could that be? He'd _lost_. Losers weren't worth remembering, were they?

He watched her turn and leave, her entourage bustling along behind her. The crowd dispersed, but he remained, staring at the spot where she'd faded from sight. People came and went, stepping around him, staring, but he paid them no mind; they weren't important. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, exactly, but it wasn't until the sun began to disappear behind the skyscrapers that he moved again.

Wincing, he pulled himself into a sitting position, staring up at the colour spattered sky. Blue melted into yellow, and yellow into orange. Soon the moon would be visible, and the city would turn into a world of brightly flashing neon lights.

Standing, Yoshinori stretched, noting the stiffness in his limbs. Taking a deep breath, he took off down the sidewalk at a brisk jog. He had a lot of training to do.

**So, there we go; this one was a little longer than most of the others.**

**I hope the chapter wasn't ridiculously 'fight scene' for anyone. I often find that fights get a bit too descriptive in fan fiction, and it ends up sounding corny and overdone. I tried to keep it more focused on the thoughts and feelings, as well as describing the whole 'flying bit'. **

**Anywho, if it wasn't a total disappointment, you could always leave me a review… *hinthint* **


	10. Don't Ruin My High

**Disclaimer: I do not own Air Master.**

**Don't Ruin My High**

Maki sighed as she toed off her shoes, feeling the door click shut at her back. She stood there for a minute or so, smiling to herself as she basked in her post-fight high. Her head was still swimming, her body lax and warm.

The busty redhead shuffled slowly into her tiny common area, intent on settling herself on the couch to relax and ride out the last remnants of her adrenaline induced haze. When she got there, however, she quickly discovered a kink in her plan - a very large, shaggy-haired kink.

Her temporary roommate sprawled languidly across the cushions, long body draping almost comically over it, his head dangling off one end, his legs off the other.

"Y-You're up?" Maki stammered.

Julietta slanted his dark eyes in her direction. "I am," he responded. "I was growing tired of staying in your room; a change of scenery was necessary."

His eyes roved her form, noting a distinct difference in her mood. Aside from the fact that she wasn't screaming at him – a miracle in and of itself – her posture seemed looser, and her expression was almost serene.

He stated his thoughts. "You seem… in better spirits, today."

Surprisingly, she didn't feel completely averse to his company at the moment. Perhaps it was because he was actually behaving like a decent human being, neither attempting to rile her anger or seduce her. Maybe it was because she still felt like she was floating on a wisp of cloud. She supposed it didn't matter.

"I fought Yoshinori," she divulged.

'Ah,' he hummed to himself, recognition setting in. 'So that is why she seems so satisfied.' He could certainly relate; a good fight always put him in a good mood.

Wait… wasn't Yoshinori the name of the one who'd… Yes, yes it was. He was the one responsible for his current state of health, _and_ his temporary living arrangements.

'I should remember to thank the boy if I ever see him again,' Julietta thought to himself.

Her eyes softened, flashing in remembrance. The inexplicable sensation of being airborne, the thrill of knowing her body was driven entirely by instinct. "It was… incredible. It's been… too long since I fought; it was good to let loose again. I missed the wind."

Prussian blue eyes wandered back to the shapely vixen standing by his feet, drinking in the way her eyes seemed to dance, the way her chest heaved, the way her lips parted.

"You look lovely right now," he told her. "Like a woman basking in the aftereffects of an orgasm."

The high was gone. A shudder raced up her spine at the words. "Ugh!"

His good behavior certainly didn't last long.

"I wish I could have been there to see you. Your beauty is most radiant while you fight, your untamed spirit bared for all to see. I would very much like to have another match, if you'd allow it?"

Glowering at the horrible man who'd succeeded in fouling her rare moment of euphoria with a handful of words, she snapped, "I'd gladly kick your ass again."

She could practically feel her fist connecting with his stupid face.

"And I would gladly let you," he admitted. "I would do anything to be near you. If it meant getting to share an intimate moment with you, I'd happily fall to my knees and beg you to hit me."

Her upper lip curled in disgust. "You're a twisted weirdo, y'know that?"

Turning, Maki stalked into her room and closed the door behind her, staring uncertainly at her bed. He'd been lying there not long ago; the indent of his large body was still apparent. She would be touching the sheets that had, hours ago, been touching _him_.

'Damn him! Since when did I become uncomfortable with the idea of lying on my own bed?!'

Scowling, she forced herself to flop down on the mattress, stuffing her face into a pillow as she cried out her frustration. She inhaled a shuddering breath… and promptly gagged.

The pillow flew across the room and into the door with a harmless 'puff'. God, it smelled like him! It was likely that she'd have to burn her sheets to get rid of his lingering scent of musky spice and smoke.

Hands curling into tight fists, she shifted on her side and tucked up into the fetal position. He really needed to go, and soon! If he didn't she'd probably go insane.

Trembling with frustration, she shouted, " I hate you!"

She thought she heard him chuckle.

Frowning, she reminded herself, 'He walked into the other room by himself today, which means his leg is getting better. Progress is good.'

Nodding, she allowed herself to be comforted by the thought, knowing that – in a couple of months – he would be gone, and she could begin the process of wiping this entire experience from her memory. She could get some new sheets and move all of her things back where they belonged…

Maki slanted her eyes toward the door. Was he going to be camping out in the living room for a substantial amount of time? If he did… she decided she might have to look into getting a new couch too.

**Yay! More updating! Hope you enjoy it!**


	11. A Promising Proposition

**Sorry for the big lull. I was off visiting family for a week, and then my hubby came home from work for a week, so my hands were sorta tied. That's life! **

**Also, I've been asked about the aforementioned lemon a few times. I'm afraid you'll all have to be patient; the lovely smut will come in time… **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A Promising Proposition**

Brushing off small bits of debris from her skirt, Maki eyed the still form of her latest opponent. He was pretty banged up, slouched over a heap of recently shattered crates near the back of a seedy alley, but was still breathing – a definite plus.

He'd been fast, quite possibly the fastest opponent she'd ever faced, but his skill left much to be desired. He'd done little but run away from her the entire fight, his offense sadly lacking. It had been rather disappointing.

Turning, she stepped through the small crowd that had gathered, back toward the bustling street. Maki flushed in embarrassment as her friends began the usual routine of singing her praises.

"That was awesome!"

"Great job!"

"You're spectacular!"

"I'll never get tired of watching you kick loser-ass!"

A small laugh escaped her as she watched Renge and Yuu exchange a series of comical blows, re-enacting the brief tussle.

"Excuse me! Excuse me! Please, wait!"

Pausing when she realized the calls were being directed at her, Maki pivoted around to stare curiously at the short man running frantically toward them. He was… odd. Young and slightly rotund with large glasses, he had an array of camera's hanging from his neck, and one clutched tightly in his fingers.

"You were incredible!" he applauded as he caught up to them, beaming at her with a crooked smile. "I've been watching you for some time now, but I never get tired of seeing you fight!"

Maki felt her stomach drop a little, her eyes falling to the camera in the man's pudgy hands. Watching her? Had she acquired another stalker? Or perhaps he was a fighter? She gave him a quick once over, noting he certainly didn't look like the type. However, if there was one thing she'd learned, it was that they came in all shapes and sizes. So, maybe he _was_ just looking to scrap?

"If you want a fight, you'll have to come find me another day," she told him, ready to go home and rummage through her cupboards for some food.

The short man guffawed loudly. "Me? Fight _you? _Ha! No, no, I'm not interested in a fight. I'm just a fan!"

He cradled his camera carefully in one hand - tucking it up under his chin – while the other sank into his pocket. Face lighting up in triumph as he seemingly found what he'd been digging for, he extended his arm, business card clasped between thumb and forefinger.

"My name's Masaso Kubota; I work for FIT Magazine."

Taking the proffered item, Maki inspected the plain white card briefly before asking, "What do you want from me?"

"Street fighting's all the rage right now and _you_ are definitely the top ranking fighter in this part of the world," he exclaimed enthusiastically. "We're looking for someone to do an article about in our upcoming issue, and I couldn't think of anyone more perfect for the position than you!"

Maki blinked, surprised. He wanted her to be in a magazine? That was… that was… _weird_.

"Does that sound like something you'd be interested in doing?" the man – Masaso – inquired excitedly.

The tall redhead glanced at the card again, humming uncertainly as she scratched the back of her neck. "I dunno…"

"Oh, come on!" Yuu piped up. "You should totally do it!"

"Yeah, it'd be fun!" Michiru added.

Renge and Mina just nodded in agreement, gazing expectantly up at her.

"What… what do you want me to do, exactly?" she asked, turning back to Masaso.

"You would just need to come down to our studio for a few hours so we could take some pictures, and then do an interview," he responded instantly.

When she frowned hesitantly, he went on, "It would open up a lot of possibilities for you… get you into the media spotlight."

Her frown deepened. "I don't think I want to have any media attention."

"And of course you'd get paid for your time."

She perked. "Paid? How much?"

Masaso blinked rapidly at her sudden change of attitude. He adjusted his glasses. "Uhm, well… let me see. You don't have an agent, and you're new to this sort of thing… it's hard to say. It will depend on how much they like you, I suppose, and how long the entire thing takes."

Maki pondered the offer, wondering whether it was a good idea or not. She didn't know anything about photo shoots, and she always got nervous and spluttered like an idiot when someone asked her a lot of questions.

"Go for it!" Renge encouraged.

She chewed her lip. She did need some money – _badly_ – and this seemed like a relatively easy way to earn it. What was there to lose?

Making up her mind, she told the short man, "I'll do it."

"Wonderful!" he all but shouted. "I'll head back right now and let them know. Could I get your number so the studio can call you when they have a set time for the shoot?"

Blushing, Maki stammered, "I, uh, I don't have a phone."

He stared quizzically at her. "Not even a land line?"

She shook her head.

"Why don't you take mine for now!" Mina offered, fishing her cell from her purse. "I don't really use it all that often. You can hold onto it until you get the call!"

The blue-eyed girl glanced from the sleek black phone to her friend, asking softly, "Are you sure?"

Mina nodded, quickly relaying the number to the squat little man. He thanked them and went on his way, promising that she'd hear from the magazine within the next couple of days.

"This is so exciting!" Mina squealed. "You'll let us know the instant you hear from them, right?"

The young redhead nodded with a chuckle.

Yuu grinned from ear to ear. "You're gunna be a model! That's so cool!"

Maki shook her head. "It's just a few pictures. I don't think that makes me a model."

The tanned girl waved her off. "Don't be so modest, you're totally hot!"

"Can you imagine what Kaori Sakiyama will do when she finds out about this? She's going to freak!" Michiru said mischievously.

Maki laughed at that, certain that the older woman would hunt her down and demand a fight once she heard the news. Her self-proclaimed rival had a tendency to get rather competitive, especially when it had anything to do with the Air Master.

'Well,' she thought to herself, 'at least it'll be money in my pocket. How much money... I have no clue, but it's better than none.'

**I know it's a little short, but I'm hoping to have the next chapter up within the next two days, so calm right on down. **

**Hope you enjoyed it. Review if you feel like it!**


	12. Maki Aikawa, Model?

**So this took longer than I said it would… sorry 'bout that. However, I will remind everyone that my real life comes before my fiction. I have two children (three and four), and my husband works two provinces away, so when he comes home, I like to spend as much time with him as I can – which means my stories get put on hold for a few weeks here and there. It has nothing to do with being a 'Review Nazi', or anything of the like.**

**I hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Air Master.**

**Maki Aikawa, Model…?**

'I shouldn't have agreed to this,' Maki thought for what had to be the tenth time as she was led down a hall toward what she assumed was the studio. Her hands were sweating, and she wiped them nervously on her skirt. While she was no stranger to being gawked at, she'd never been comfortable with people she didn't know getting up-close and personal with her.

"Right in here," chimed the pretty young woman leading her, gesturing through a set of doors.

Maki squinted as she stepped into the brightly lit room lined with vanities and wash stations.

"Is this our three o'clock?" a bright-eyed girl, looking little older than she, asked perkily.

"Yup. Don't take too long in here. They want her on set in an hour," the woman who'd brought her in answered, closing the door as she departed.

A man with a thin moustache huffed, cocking his hip and waving his hands flippantly as he stated, "You can't rush perfection. Do come in, honey, let me get a good look at you."

Maki stepped forward awkwardly, offering a crooked smile as she wrung her hands.

"Don't look so nervous, sweetheart!" the young man laughed. "By the time we're through with you, you'll look like a star!"

The two of them approached, circling her with speculative gazes that made the teen exceptionally nervous.

"What glorious colour!" he exclaimed, reaching out and fingering the deep red strands. "So uncommon!"

"And these eyes!" the woman gushed. "They're brilliant!"

Maki flushed hotly at the comments, shuffling her feet as they continued their perusal.

The man stepped back, gesturing to himself. "My name is Gilbert, and this airy little thing is Yoko."

"Hi!" Yoko chirped, waving animatedly.

"Now, let's get you settled so I can work my magic!" he insisted, pushing her toward a wash station. Seating her in a black leather chair, he pulled a cutting cape around her neck, running his hands through her hair as he inspected it more closely.

"The length really suits you," he told her. "However, it's in desperate need of a touch up. Your split ends are terrible!"

Maki cleared her throat, admitting sheepishly, "I don't really do much with it."

Gilbert smiled, teasing with a wink, "That much is obvious, but don't worry – I'll take care of you!"

He tilted her back into the sink, giving her a quick lather and rinse before leading her toward one of the vanities. For all his talk about not rushing perfection, he was quite fast… perhaps it was because she didn't have much hair to work with? Either way, it didn't take long before he was setting his scissors down with flourish, fluffing the tips and caroling, "Voila! Simply stunning! That bit of extra perk has done wonders; really compliments your facial structure."

"Alright, quit your boasting and move over," Yoko said, flapping her little hands. "It's my turn!"

The flamboyant woman scuttled up behind her, bumping Gilbert with her hip.

"Now then, let's get to it!" she all but shouted, the look of sheer, childish delight on her face reminding Maki a little of Renge… at least when food was involved. She whirled the young redhead's chair around, bending down to look at her face.

"This is a sport shoot, so nothing too dramatic. Just a light dusting and then something to make your lovely blue eyes really stand out. But first… let's do those eyebrows!"

"Eyebrows?" Maki questioned.

"Mhm! They're nicely shaped, they just need a teensy bit of sculpting," Yoko replied, pinching her tweezers playfully.

She'd never had her eyebrows done… or her makeup, for that matter. She felt rather pampered, and oddly giddy.

Yoko got right to work, finishing her brow touch-up and moving on to her makeup. Maki had no idea what she was doing, so she sat quietly until it was done, Yoko standing back to admire her work. Smiling, she then reached out to grab hold of the chair-arms and twirled her back around to face the mirror.

She blinked, surprised. She hadn't really been sure what to expect –she didn't wear makeup – but it certainly wasn't this. Her skin looked luminous and even, and her eyes… really did look great. She felt… pretty… _beautiful_, even. She couldn't recall ever having felt this way about her appearance.

Gilbert stepped up behind her, giving her a critical once-over. He didn't say anything, but nodded approvingly before motioning over to a rack of clothing standing next to another door. "Those are the clothes they've picked out for your shoot. The changing room is right through there if you want to get dressed, I'll call Cynthia back in to take you to the set."

Standing, Maki turned to gather her outfit, stepping through the door and into a single-person change room. The clothing was simple enough: black running shoes, ankle socks, and some knee-length leggings of the same brand. The top was… small. Very small. Like… a sports bra. She stared incredulously at the item for a moment, wondering if perhaps they'd forgotten to give her the shirt that was supposed to go on overtop it.

Sighing, she changed quickly, flushing as she tried to arrange her substantial bust into the top. They were covered - mostly, but the material clung tightly, mashing her boobs practically up to her chin. Biting her lip, she opened the door, poking her head out and gazing around at the room's occupants. The other woman – Cynthia – had returned, head swivelling in her direction as she emerged.

"Is there m-more to this than what was here?" Maki managed to stammer.

Cynthia shook her head. "No, it's all there."

She felt her stomach do an odd little flip-flop, hand tugging at the neckline of the shirt – err, bra-thing.

"Its athletic gear," Cynthia told her with a shrug. "Besides, they do whatever they can to pander to the male readers. They sell more issues that way."

"I don't know what you're so concerned about," Gilbert said with a flick of his hand. "You have a fabulous body. I couldn't really tell before, what with that frumpy jacket on."

"This is your first shoot?" Yoko asked, sounding dubious. "You should look into modelling. You're the right height, and obviously very fit. I bet you'd do great!"

"M-Me? Model?" she replied, laughing nervously. "N-No, I'm-"

"We really need to get going," Cynthia cut in, looking down at the screen of her phone. "They'll be expecting you."

Nodding, she followed her guide back down the hall to a spacious room, where what looked to be a gym was set up at one end. A small crew was arranging lights and other gear around it, bustling about to make the final preparations.

"Here you are!"

Head swivelling, Maki eyed the waving man.

"Come one, we've got work to do!" he called, motioning them over.

Maki followed him onto the set, nervousness weighing her every step. There was no turning back now, she realized, the fact settling in her stomach like a rock.

'I shouldn't have come,' she bemoaned. 'I going to do something stupid and humiliate myself.'

"I'll get you standing right over here," the man instructed, gesturing to the middle of the set.

She walked woodenly to the specified spot, wiping her sweaty palms on her leggings before turning to stare questioningly at the photographer.

"All I need are a few stills and then some action shots," he told her as he adjusted the settings on his camera.

"S-Stills?" she repeated over the lump in her throat.

He nodded, leaning back as he peered at her through the lens. "Can I get you in a fighting stance?"

"Uhh… how… where should I…"

The photographer lowered his camera minimally, noticing her nervousness. He smiled crookedly. "Relax."

She swallowed, trying to hide her discomfort but failing miserably.

The young man laughed lightheartedly. "Your name's Maki, right?"

She tilted her head in affirmation.

"My name's Lee."

She nodded again.

"It's normal to be nervous on your first shoot, but you really need to relax. You'll do fine."

When none of the stiffness left her frame, he sighed, dropping the camera to his chest. He stared at her for a short time, assessing, asking finally, "What do you do when you fight?"

She blinked at him, thinking that a rather strange question. "When I fight… I... beat people up...?"

Shaking his head, he tried again. "I mean are you this nervous when you fight?"

Eyes widening in understanding, she replied, "No. Fighting just comes naturally to me. It feels right."

"Tell me about it," he urged.

She thought about it for a moment, answering softly, "When I'm fighting… it's like everything just disappears. There's no one watching or judging, it's just me and my opponent… in the moment. It's really intense, but at the same time, really peaceful."

"Perfect."

"Huh?"

Smiling, Lee instructed, "I want you to pretend you're in a fight."

She looked at him incredulously.

Laughing, he explained, "Don't go trashin' the place. I want you to get into that zone for me, like you're about to fight someone. I want you to treat this with the same confident ferocity you use on the street. I've seen Kubota's shots of you, and you look spectacular when you're in your element!"

Maki frowned, uncertain she would be able to do accomplish the task when someone was staring at her. However, she decided she would give it a shot, closing her eyes and trying to imagine herself in another place. It took a moment for the noises to fade, but one by one they began filtering out, until it was quiet.

She remembered how it felt to stand among the deserted ruins of the building where she and Eternal had fought, heart thundering as the air sung all around her, charged with the tension of the upcoming battle. And, oh, what a battle it had been! She truly doubted she would ever experience anything quite like it again.

Breathing deeply, she felt her muscles relax and then tense, head tilting back in jubilated abandon at the memory.

"How do you feel now?"

Opening her eyes, she admitted, "Better."

Lee nodded, pleased with himself. "Great! Now, let's get to work. Can you get into a fighting stance for me?"

Maki pulled one foot back, falling effortlessly into the pose. She imagined he was just another opponent, eyes focused as she stared unblinkingly at the camera.

"Perfect!" Lee praised. "Love that intensity! Keep this up and we'll be done before you know it."

The teen smiled crookedly, thinking perhaps this wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

><p>"So, you used to be a gymnast, correct?"<p>

Maki's stomach gave that familiar little lurch, the same way it did every time someone brought up her past.

"Your mother, as well?" the woman continued, glancing at her momentarily over a pair of thin-rimmed glasses. She flipped through some papers –information she'd gathered for the interview.

"The _Queen of Women's Gymnastics_," she read aloud. "Impressive. Why did you stop?"

Her throat tightened at the question, and Maki forced herself to take a rasping breathe. She should have known it would come up… no, she _had _known, but knowing never made it any less difficult.

Hands clenching, she responded, "I… I'm not really comfortable talking about that part of my past."

The woman paused, looking at her curiously. The expression was gone an instant later, replaced with a smile, though Maki could make out hints of sympathy in the lines of her face.

"Not a problem. Readers love a little intrigue!"

She jotted something down quickly before flipping a page in her notebook. "So, you moved on to street fighting? An odd choice, for one of the fairer sex."

Maki shrugged. "Not really. There are a lot of female street fighters."

"Do you ever feel like your gender is a disadvantage? Are women discriminated against in the sport?"

She shook her head in the negative. "No, a fighter is a fighter. Young, old, male, female – it doesn't matter. The only real limits we have are the ones we set for ourselves."

"_You _don't have any doubts holding you back?"

Maki shook her head again. "When you ignore the boundaries… ignore the things people say you can't do, there is no end to the possibilities."

The interviewer – Natsumi, if she remembered correctly – gave a small nod, a soft smile playing on her thin lips.

"What is it that drew you to this sport after you moved on from your previous title?"

She gave a small, bittersweet laugh, admitting, "Actually, it sort of found me, and when it did… it just… hmm... It's hard to explain."

Her brow furrowed minutely, and she leaned forward to rest her elbows on the small table. "You'll never truly know unless you experience it for yourself, but if I had to sum it up with words… it's the most freeing feeling in the world. When I fought for the very first time, everything I thought I knew about my physical limitations just disappeared. There was _nothing _I couldn't do. The feeling - the pressure - is so _beautiful_ and _terrifying_ and _addictive_, I don't think I could live without it."

She clasped her hands, remembering that day vividly. "When it was over, and I pulled myself up off of the ground… it was like a part of me - one that had been missing my entire life – had finally come home."

"Doesn't it scare you, the thought that you could get hurt?"

"Pain doesn't scare me."

Natsumi smiled, her eyes crinkling. "You really are as fearless as they say."

She frowned. "There have been times… when I was afraid. I've fought a lot of memorable opponents, but only a couple of them have actually frightened me."

"Could you tell me about those fights?"

"Yuki Minaguchi," she said slowly, recalling her fight with Fukamishi's fourth. "She was very precise, very calm when she fought, but I could see a wildness in her, a wildness like mine, just waiting to come out. When it finally did, it was so much more than I'd been expecting. I was completely overwhelmed... helpless."

A sigh slid past her lips, a pang of longing swelling in her gut. She never had got her chance at a rematch with Yuki. Maki suspected the woman had died in the collapse after her match with Eternal. A shame… truly.

"And the other fighter?" Natsumi inquired.

The question pulled her mouth into a small scowl. "Julietta Sakamoto."

She hissed the name softly, as though saying it too loudly would somehow conjure him from nothing. Truthfully, facing him frightened her more than her fight with Yuki had, though for an entirely different reason.

"The look in his eyes when we fought… it was different, probing. It made me feel… uncertain about myself. I'd never doubted myself as a fighter before I met him."

She left out the little bit about him being an obsessive psychopath. The last thing she wanted in this magazine article was mentions of her would-be-stalker's undying affection. Talking about him at all left a bad taste in her mouth, but the more depraved aspects of their odd 'relationship' would remain secret from the public.

Of course said stalker was currently lounging in her apartment, she reminded herself, just waiting for her to return so he could annoy the crap out of her.

'Oh, I can't wait to be rid of that guy!'

**Again, sorry for the delay on this update. **

**Thank you for reading! Reviews are very much appreciated.**


	13. Shall I Kick Your Teeth Out For You?

**Here you are! Next entry!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own AirMaster.**

**Shall I Kick Your Teeth Out For You?**

Maki wasn't sure what to expect when she arrived home that evening, but it certainly hadn't been this. Her apartment… was clean,_ legitimately_ clean. The sink was empty, the floor clear of garbage. She could actually _see_ her countertop. Peering into the bedroom, she noticed it was tidied as well, bed made and laundry moved into her hamper. She gaped.

"How..." The question died on her lips as her mind supplied that there was only one logical explanation - Julietta.

Stepping into the living area, she found him lounging on her couch, body lax in repose. Stepping alongside, she crossed her arms and cleared her throat, frowning when he peered at her through one eye.

"What's all this?"

He opened the other eye, scanning the room quickly before his gaze fell back on her. "All this?"

"It's clean," she clarified.

"I got bored," he answered with a shrug, eye sliding shut again.

Maki growled, fed up with his nonchalance. "You're supposed to be resting, not running around my apartment playing maid while I'm away!"

"I can't sleep _all_ day."

"You're going to make your injuries worse!" the redhead insisted, frustrated by his carelessness and disobedience. If he worsened his condition, he'd have to stay longer, and that simply would not do.

"I'm fine," Julietta assured. "I made sure not to strain myself."

Maki's frown deepened, brow furrowing in distrust. Something just didn't seem right. He'd been getting about quite well lately, whereas a week ago he'd barely been able to stand without assistance. It just didn't add up.

"I'm no doctor, but shouldn't it be taking you a bit longer to heal?" she inquired, eyes narrowing.

The large male on her couch stiffened momentarily, and suddenly, a very disturbing notion slunk through her mind.

"Have you been faking?" she hissed through ground teeth. If this _was _just a big ploy to spend some time with her, she was going to kick him in the face so hard he'd be shitting shards of his own teeth!

Julietta looked up at her. "My injuries are quite real, I assure you. Though, they are not nearly as painful as the suffering brought on by your absence."

Fighting back the urge to gag, she waved him off, "Alright, alright, enough of that… but it still doesn't seem right. You're healing so fast."

"I'm a ki user," he informed her with a one-shouldered shrug.

"What does that mean?"

Pulling himself slowly into a sitting position, Julietta shifted until the pressure on his ribs lessened. He then explained, "It is an energy that resides within all things, though most people are unaware of it, or are unsure of how to utilize it. It can be used in many ways - for defense, offense, and healing."

"So… you can heal yourself?"

"Not exactly. By focusing on the ki within my own body, I can flush out stagnant or negative energy, and speed the natural healing process in doing so."

She pondered this new tidbit for a moment, seriously tempted to ask him more. A skill like that could be immensely useful in a fight… though if she asked him to show her, he'd likely try something perverted. Instead, she queried, "So, how much does it speed the healing process?"

"I should be healed within a few weeks," he replied, watching a lovely smile form on her lips as he withheld a grin of his own. Truth be told, he _could_ have been healed and out the door in little over a week, but she didn't need to know that.

Maki gave a pleased nod. "Glad to hear it! I thought I'd have to put up with you for another couple of months!"

Julietta put on his most pitiful expression, hand on his heart as he teased, "You don't mean that, my darling."

She lifted a brow at the little display. "Oh, but I do."

Ignoring the statement, he went on, "It must get so lonely here without anyone to keep you company, so miserably wretched spending the nights on your own, with no one to keep you warm and whisper sweet nothings into your ear."

"Whisper… sweet nothings…?" she repeated, lip curling in distaste.

"I can't bear the thought of it! It's decided, I'll stay… for you."

Reminding herself that he was trying to get a rise out of her, Maki replied calmly, "No, no, it's quite alright. I'm happy being by myself."

"No need to fret, lovely one. It's no trouble at all, I assure you," he purred, reaching out to snag her hand.

Pulling away like he had the plague, she warned, "Keep talking and I'll rip off that arm and beat you to death with it."

He smiled, leaning back and closing his eyes again.

For some reason his smug silence bothered her even more than his obnoxious prattling, and she had to ball her fists to keep from punching him in the gut. Turning with a growl, she marched into her bedroom and slammed the door, flopping down on newly laundered sheets.

'He even washed these,' she noted, reluctantly grateful. They no longer smelled of him, which was definitely nice. Now she didn't feel dirty when she lay on her own bed. She peered into the corner, where her laundry hamper sat, piled high with her dirty clothing. At least he'd left those alone. The idea of him folding her underwear was too much to bear.

Groaning, she pulled a pillow over her head, reminding herself that he would be out of her hair in a few weeks.

'In three weeks, you'll have your couch back, your bed back, and your privacy back.'

* * *

><p>Maki groaned, peering through bleary eyes at her alarm clock. Three forty-five? Why on earth was she up so early? She hadn't been dreaming... what could have roused her? Shrugging, she settled back into the couch, eager to get back to sleep.<p>

A deep groan snagged her attention before she could drift off, however, followed by several others. She tried to tune the noise out, but it persisted, growing louder and more distressed. Frowning, she pulled back the sheet and crawled off the sofa, making her way toward the bedroom. She peered into the dark room, moonlight pouring through the window and onto the sleeping male within. His face was drawn and covered in sweat, his chest heaving rapidly as he tossed.

'Must be having a bad dream,' she speculated tiredly, turning to go back to the living room.

"Mother..."

The soft, distraught call made her pause, made her look back into the room at the man occupying her bed. He looked... afraid, an expression she'd never seen him wear before. She shouldn't have cared, should have gone back to her couch and ignored him... but she was frozen, staring at Julietta as he writhed on the mattress. Despite her dislike for him, she _could not_ leave him like this, couldn't abandon him now.

'Seems I'm not the only one haunted by ghosts of the past,' she thought to herself as she stepped further into the room. She stopped at the bedside, staring down at his pitiful face, wanting to calm this distress... so much like her own. Reaching out, she gently lay a hand on his cheek, stroking his damp skin. His breathing slowed, the crease between his brows smoothing as he leaned into the comforting touch. She stayed that way for several minutes, staring down at the face of the man who she considered an enemy... and wondered...

Was he really the villain she'd pegged him as? This glimpse of his troubles - no matter how brief - had caused her to start rethinking her opinion of this man.

Slipping quietly away, Maki made her way back to the couch, her mind turning these new thoughts over until she drifted off once more.

**The next chapter will be on hold for about a week, just so ya know…**

**Reviews are loved! **


	14. Julietta Sakamoto, Chef?

**Yay! More updates!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own AirMaster.**

**Julietta Sakamoto, Chef…?**

"We haven't been to that place next to the pottery store for a while. They have the best udon."

"Yeah, but I don't feel like udon right now. I say we go to that awesome place over by my house."

"I don't care where we go, as long as we leave soon. I'm starving!"

"You're always starving, Renge."

"What do you think, Maki?"

The young redhead blinked out of her stupor at the sound of her name, turning to her friends with a blush. "Wh-what?"

"Where do you think we should go to eat?" Michiru asked again, Yuu and Renge awaiting her response with bated breath.

She fidgeted under the trio's intense scrutiny, shrugging. "I don't care."

They seemed to deflate at the response, slumping like rag-dolls onto the cement. Renge moaned pitifully, clutching at her stomach as she rolled across the sidewalk.

"What about the café by the harbor?" Mina suggested.

The auburn-haired teen waved her hand dismissively. "Too expensive."

Michiru straightened. "Should we just settle it in the usual way?"

Perking, Yuu turned, presenting a fist to her friend. "Yeah! Rock, Paper, Scissors! Don't complain when I win again!"

"We'll see," the fairer girl returned with a grin, balling her hand to mimic Yuu's.

Maki watched them silently, smiling at the familiar sight. Michiru shouted in triumph, her rock crushing Yuu's scissors. She spun around, shimmying in a little victory dance while her opponent sagged in defeat. Following their lead, the tall female fell in behind the small group as they set off, chuckling nervously when Mina pulled back alongside her and grabbed her arm in an affectionate gesture. She really needed to speak to the overzealous young woman about her issues with personal space.

"Holy shit!"

Coming to an abrupt halt at the ear-splitting shriek, Maki glanced curiously at Yuu, who was staring slack-jawed at something on a newsstand rack. She was about to ask what was wrong when said girl abruptly pushed her way past a group of browsing customers and snatched a magazine from the shelf, shoving it up in her face.

"It's you, Maki!"

Pulling back so she could actually _see_ the picture, the redhead spluttered in embarrassment when she saw that her friend was indeed correct. A picture of her – one from the shoot – was blown up on the fitness magazine's cover.

"AirMaster: Street Fighter Super-Star!" Michiru read aloud, grabbing her own copy and flipping through the pages with wide-eyed admiration. "That's so cool!"

"Hey!" the vendor complained. "You'll have to buy those if you want to read them! No loitering!"

Rifling through their pockets, the girls purchased one each, Mina even buying a second copy for her. She accepted it with awkward gratitude, blushing to the roots of her hair as they began scanning the pictures within, slinging compliments this way and that.

"You look amazing!"

"Wow, they got some kick-ass shots of you fighting!"

She rubbed the back of her neck nervously, wishing they would stop. She was going to spontaneously combust soon if they didn't ease up on the embarrassingly loud flattery.

"Is that her?" a curious voice asked from behind them.

The girls all paused, turning to find a couple of boys staring in their direction from the vendor. One pointed, nodding vigorously as he replied, "I think it's her."

Yuu – ever awaiting an opportunity to embarrass one of her friends – grinned, gesturing with her hands as she shouted, "That's right, boys! The one and only AirMaster! Don't be shy, come say 'hello'! Get an autograph! Take a picture!"

Maki felt her stomach bottom-out as everyone around the newsstand turned to look at her, their attention drawn by the commotion.

The two young men approached enthusiastically, each clutching their own copy of the magazine she was featured in. One produced a marker seemingly out of nowhere, beseeching, "Please, can we get your autograph!"

"You're so hot!" the second went on, holding up the article for her to sign.

Accepting the marker gingerly, she scribbled her name along the bottoms of the pages, her mind having screeched to a messy and untimely stop by this point. This couldn't be happening… could it?

She handed back the marker, shifting uncomfortably as she noticed the other men at the newsstand had begun giving her appraising looks, their eyes skimming down her body and then back up again. Not able to handle this kind of attention, she turned and began walking rapidly away, leaving her friends behind.

"Wait!" called one of the boys. "What about that picture?!"

Ignoring him, she continued onward, not slowing until she had rounded a corner and could no longer see them. Sighing gustily as her friends caught up, she bemoaned, "I hope it's not like that everywhere!"

Yuu laughed saucily. "You'll get used to the attention."

"You mean _you _could get used to the attention? I'm sure you'd love riding her coattails into the limelight," Michiru teased, still panting.

"I'm sure it won't be like that all the time," Mina assured her, stroking her back tenderly.

Yuu and Michiru exchanged knowing looks, the latter inquiring, "So, Mina… I'll bet you can't wait to get home? You gunna hang Maki's poster up on your bedroom wall?"

The auburn-haired girl scoffed, piping up, "No way! She's gunna have that thing tucked under her pillow for late-night reading!"

The vulgarity of the comment was not lost on anyone. Maki almost wanted to punch her friend for putting her in such an awkward position, and Mina looked like she was going to cry from embarrassment.

"No! I-I wouldn't!" she insisted.

The two trouble-makers laughed while Renge complained, "Are we going to go eat now?!"

* * *

><p>Maki trudged slowly to her apartment, stomach empty and rumbling. Her friend's teasing had made it impossible for her to handle any food when they arrived at the restaurant, but now she was beginning to wish she had forced something down. It was late, and she was famished.<p>

'When are they going to get that elevator fixed,' she griped as she neared the top of the stairs.

As she readied the keycard to her apartment, she wondered raggedly what surprises Sakamoto might have for her upon her return this time. He'd been cleaning… constantly. The disobedient bastard would tidy any little mess she made the instant she left, and it was beginning to bother her. Not that she minded having a clean space, mind you; she just didn't like the idea of him getting so familiar with her abode. Touching everything… rearranging things… it was troublesome to think on.

She pushed the card into its slot, and as she opened the door an unexpected aroma greeted her at the threshold. _Food! _Mouth-watering, succulent food!

'He must have ordered in,' was her first thought, but as she turned into the kitchen the notion disappeared… and her head promptly exploded… figuratively, that is. There was her 'houseguest', propped crookedly against the stove, stirring a pan of some sizzling entrée. Whatever it was… it smelled _unbelievably good!_

"You cook?"

He glanced at her, shrugging. "You had a few vegetables in the fridge and some chicken in the freezer. I thought I'd whip something up."

"I had chicken?" she murmured in astonishment.

Wandering closer to the heavenly-smelling concoction, she peered into the pan, studying what appeared to be stir-fry with critical scrutiny.

"It isn't exactly a gourmet meal," he commented offhandedly. "I had very little to work with."

Maki watched as he turned off the element and spooned some of his creation onto a plate, handing it expectantly to her – along with a set of chopsticks. She accepted the dish hesitantly, poking at it for a moment before picking up a small morsel. She peered at it closely, looking up to lock gazes with him for a minute before deeming it safe to continue. Blowing gently on the steaming hunk of chicken, she nibbled a corner, nearly moaning when flavor exploded on her tongue.

Without further ado, she began stuffing her face, uncaring of whether or not he found her behavior unseemly. She was starving! He didn't seem to care, though, simply smiling at her before dishing himself a portion. It was better than takeout! Better than anything she'd had in a long time! She was amazed by the fact that he'd managed to prepare something this good from the scraps she had in her kitchen.

Finishing her plate with a sigh, Maki set the dish in the sink and stepped back to study Julietta, rather surprised with this new turn of events. Him acting as her personal maid was odd enough… and now he cooked as well? What other skills did he have?

He ate slowly, neatly, savoring his food. A small daub of sauce clung to his upper lip, and his tongue slipped out to lick it off. He caught her gaze. She blushed, thinking that everything he did was somewhat suggestive.

Clearing her throat to cut through the awkward silence, she asked, "Where did you learn to cook?"

He paused, chopsticks frozen around a piece of carrot.

It was a long pause, and for a moment she didn't think he was going to respond.

"Anita… taught me how," he finally answered, a far-off look in his eye.

There was something familiar in his expression, she noted, something dark and nostalgic all at once. And who the hell was Anita? A past lover perhaps... a former obsession? The intrigue surrounding her impromptu guest was growing more and more by the day. Before she had a chance to ask him, he changed the subject, glancing curiously to the magazine in her hand.

"What's that?"

Rolling up the article, she held it to her chest, responding in clipped tones, "It's none of your business."

He laughed, and she scowled, turning to march out of the kitchen. She tossed the damned magazine onto her bed, hoping the money she earned from the shoot was enough to make all this humiliation worth-while.

**Hmm… wonder who Anita is, and what that far-off look was about…? Well, stick around and you'll find out soon enough.**

**Love to all of my readers! Reviews are great! **


	15. Haunted by the Past

**IMPORTANT NOTICE! I've done some changes in the story, so you may wish to skim through the last two chapters. I added a bit near the end of Chapter 13 (Shall I Kick Your Teeth Out For You?), and made a few other minor adjustments. The chapters aren't long, so go back and reread… otherwise part of this chapter will seem kind of random.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own AirMaster.**

**Haunted by the Past**

Maki read it twice… and then a third time, just to be sure she wasn't hallucinating. This was… _a lot of yen_! Enough to live on for a month!

'Maybe I _should _look into modelling,' she mused as she closed her mailbox, but then reminded herself of the recent increase of admirers and dismissed the thought. Tucking the check carefully into her bag, Maki headed up to her apartment, eager to relax for the remainder of the evening.

'I guess I'll go grocery shopping tomorrow,' she decided as she ascended the stairs, knowing she couldn't put it off any longer. She still had a bit of money left from the chunk Shiro had given her, and he _had _promised to give her more if she needed it – an offer which she planned on milking to the fullest extent. Perhaps she could save these recent earnings, use them to support herself once Sakamoto was gone and her father was no longer paying her to house him. That would leave her with a comfortable one month period to search for a job.

The sapphire-eyed street fighter toed off her shoes at the threshold of her apartment, noting that Sakamoto had, once again, done last night's dishes and tidied. Honestly, as annoying as he could be, she was getting rather accustomed to having her own personal housekeeper. If she ever managed to succeed financially, she was going to hire someone to clean for her for the rest of her life.

Said temporary housekeeper was in the living area, propped up on the couch with a magazine in his hand.

A magazine…

Her eyes bulged. She stormed into the living room, questioning, "What are you reading?"

Instead of answering her question directly, Julietta smiled, and began to read aloud from the article.

"_When I fought for the very first time, everything I thought I knew about my physical limitations just disappeared. There was __nothing __I couldn't do. The feeling - the pressure - is so __beautiful__ and __terrifying_ _and __addictive__, I don't think I could live without it."_

Tipping his head over the back of the couch, he looked up at her and said, "Well spoken. You have a poet's soul."

Mortified, she demanded, "You give that here right now!"

He lifted a dark brow, tone teasing as he complained, "But I haven't finished reading the article yet."

Holding out a hand, fingers splayed, she reiterated, "Give that here… _now_!"

He heaved a defeated sigh, rolling the magazine and extending it toward her. "Very well."

Maki gave a terse nod, reaching out to take it… only to have it pulled from her fingers. She frowned and tried again, her efforts yielding the same result. The fiery teen snarled, nearly lunging over the back of the couch as he pulled it further away while chuckling to himself. Realizing she was basically in his lap, she pulled back and straightened, huffing, "Fine! Keep the stupid thing!"

He hummed in triumph, unfolding the issue and settling back into the cushions.

She grumbled sourly, about to turn and leave when his voice – now somber – reached her.

"It says here that your past is somewhat shrouded… that no one really knows much about the AirMaster. Why is that?" He looked back at her, expression soft and serious at the same time. "What _was_ your childhood like, Maki?"

She stopped short, momentarily blindsided by the sudden change in mood and the topic of his query. She studied his face, looking for anything to suggest he might be teasing, but his eyes were sincere - not a flicker of mischief to be found. He looked… almost vulnerable in that moment, again exposing a part of himself she'd never imagined he could harbor. It was achingly familiar, sorrowful and longing…

Sighing, she told him with a shake of her head, "My mother passed not that long ago. It's… it's too soon… to talk about my past."

He nodded once in acceptance and understanding, turning back to the magazine in his hand as he uttered softly, "Wounds of that nature take far longer to heal."

"What about you?" she asked, curious as of late. Shifting on her feet, she admitted, "I heard you the other night… calling out. What are your nightmares about?"

He smiled crookedly. "What makes you think they're nightmares?"

She frowned, eyes drifting to her feet as she responded, "I know those sounds; they're not the sounds of a pleasant dream. I… I have nightmares too."

His expression darkened at her admission. "I dream of the past."

It was all he said before continuing with his reading, and she didn't press; she knew all too well how hard it could be to discuss painful memories. They were alike in that regard it seemed, both still suffering from old wounds, but not quite ready to air them out.

He gave a little laugh then, a sound that made her quirk her brow in askance. Catching her glance, he said cheekily, "One of your most memorable opponents? Really? I'm flattered."

Maki narrowed her eyes, not liking the sly note in his voice one bit.

Sakamoto turned, draping one arm lazily over the back of the sofa as he purred, "In case you weren't aware, _you _are by far the most memorable opponent I've faced. I don`t believe I'll ever fight someone with a figure as voluptuous-"

Cheeks flaming, she leapt over the couch and grabbed the damnable magazine from his hands, promptly smacking him upside the head with it before shuffling hurriedly into her room and hiding it as best she could. The last thing she wanted was to come home and find him jerking off to pictures of her. She shuddered. A sight like that would probably give her _far_ _worse _nightmares than the ones she was accustomed to.

**Hope you liked it, and if some of you are saying to yourselves, 'wtf is she talking about, hearing his dreams…?' that means you either skipped the beginning AN, or chose to ignore my suggestion. If that is the case, go read the last two chapters again and it will tie in.**

**Much love for reading!**


	16. Not So Different

**Sorry** **for he lapse in updates. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Not So Different**

Arms loaded with groceries, Maki stumbled through the doorway, hating the many floors that separated her from the ground more than ever. The view was certainly nice enough, but having to carry fifty pounds of food up the stairs every time she went shopping was growing incredibly tiresome.

'I'm filing a complaint about that elevator,' she griped as she deposited her armload on the floor, bumping the door shut with her foot.

Julietta shuffled out of the living area, and she nearly groaned in frustration. Her mood was already rather dour, and dealing with his shenanigans was not something she wanted to do at the moment. Yet he surprised her, wordlessly kneeling to rifle through her bags.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, watching him separate the non-perishables from the refrigerated goods.

"Assisting you," he responded plainly, opening the icebox to put the frozen products away.

Maki frowned. She didn't know if she trusted this new Julietta, this helpful, pleasant side of him. Cooking, cleaning… if he kept it up too long, she might unwittingly start to _like_ him. Then again, perhaps that was his plan, to lure her into a state of false security, and then BAM, he'd… He would… uhm… Well, she wasn't too sure what would happen, but it certainly couldn't be good!

Grumbling, she slapped his hand away from a package of beef, muscling her way between her 'guest' and the fridge. "I don't need your help. I know where everything goes. This is _my _apartment, after all."

He shifted, leaning back against the wall as he offered, "Perhaps I could make something-"

"No, thank you! I can take care of myself; I've been doing it for years, you know?" she informed him crossly, sick of his attempts at playing Mr. Nice Guy and trying to get on her good side.

The kitchen was awkwardly silent afterward; the crumpling of paper bags and the clanking of jars and cans only punctuating the uncomfortable quiet. He didn't move, like she'd hoped he would, opting instead to remain and watch her finish unpacking. His eyes were heavy and unsettling, and she tried her hardest to ignore them. It wasn't until she was nearly finished unpacking that she rounded on him.

"What are you looking at?!" she shouted, hating the look on his face. He didn't seem sad or upset, like a normal person would have. His mouth was quirked, almost into a smile, and his gaze was deep and knowing. It looked almost like… understanding.

"You're so guarded, Maki. What are you afraid of?"

She balked, breath freezing in her lungs. What was he talking about?! Afraid?

"Are you afraid of being hurt?" he went on softly.

"No!" she denied adamantly, panic seeping into her voice.

"You've been hurt before, haven't you? Is that why you won't let anyone get too close?"

For a moment, her mind reeled, the painful truth of his words cracking the mental walls she'd been reinforcing for years. How did he…? Could he tell? Could he see her, trapped away inside her self-made fortress?

"You don't know anything about me!" she hissed, though her voice lacked the fire it once held.

He did smile then, a sympathetic sort of smile. "You'd be surprised, I think, by how similar I believe we may be."

Crimson brows furrowed, and she peered back at him curiously.

Julietta leaned forward, pushing off of the wall. Making his way back into the living room, he told her, "We are not so different, Maki. You would see it if you allowed yourself to."

The two of them? _Similar?_ Ha! He was a cad, a deviant who had – on several occasions – tried to molest her , and she was just a teenage girl who wanted to be left alone. There was absolutely nothing alike about them!

'Then how did he know?' she wondered, her chest aching. He'd seen past her defenses with those dark, sad eyes of his, of that she was sure. The only question that remained was… how? How could he tell she was hiding her heart away?

'Could he be right?' she asked herself skeptically as she finished putting the groceries away. 'Are we… not so different after all?'

**Hmm, food for thought. Maybe there's more to Julietta than everyone thinks, just as our dear redhead isn't as detached as she pretends to be…**


	17. Let You In, If Only a Little

**Aaaand another.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Let You In, If Only a Little**

Maki leaned against the railing with a sigh, watching as the dusky cloak that blanketed the Tokyo sky began to lift – light bleeding over the horizon in streams of orange and yellow. Darkness gave way to the dawn, and weariness had yet to set in. She gripped the rail tightly, knuckles whitening as she recalled her most recent encounter with her strange houseguest once again. His words and unusual attitude as of late had plagued her thoughts for many hours, and because of it, sleep evaded her on this night.

His behavior had her thoroughly confused, uncertain of her convictions. When he arrived here, she'd assumed she had him pegged. Recently, however, his conduct had changed, thrown her completely off kilter. There were still the underlying hints of perversion, of course, but now she viewed him as less of a one-track-mind scumbag, and more like a human being, with real problems and quirks… and possibly _positive_ traits. In truth, she didn't know him at all! Was it really fair of her to judge him so harshly while knowing so little?

The redhead gave a frustrated grunt, not liking how complicated things had become. He had her questioning her assumptions of him, and worse, questioning herself! She'd been comfortable with her guarded way of life, content on hiding away in her bubble and keeping her distance from people. Even Yuu and the others - while she allowed them closer than most - she kept at arm's length, granting them small glimpses of her true self without ever opening up completely. Sometimes she would spend days hidden away in her apartment, skipping school and avoiding all contact, just so she could separate herself from the world again, take time to refortify her walls.

But Julietta… he'd called her out, made her confront the truth of why she was this way. She hated admitting that she was afraid, but it was a fact she'd never really be able to run from. No matter how high or wide she built those walls, no matter how much she fought or detached herself from her emotions; inside she was still just a frightened child who'd yet to heal from old wounds.

'I think I liked it better before he came here,' she mused. 'Before I began to see there was more to him that what meets the eye. Now that I know otherwise, I can't help but want to find out more about his past.'

She shook her head, feeling like she was being pulled in two different directions. The cautious side of her wanted nothing to do with him, to keep her distance and play it safe. The part of her she tried so hard to repress wanted to learn more, to see just how many similarities she shared with Julietta.

'He may be unstable, but there's a good possibility he's largely misunderstood. Maybe he just doesn't know how to handle his emotions… like me.'

A tremor of fear shot up her spine at the thought of traversing such unknown territory, her breath quickening into short little pants. She wasn't used to letting people in, wasn't used to letting herself be vulnerable. It frightened her, just as he'd said.

A wry, somewhat hysterical chuckle escaped her lips. She supposed it was somewhat funny that the probability of physical pain did not scare her in the least, but the mere _idea_ of letting herself get close to someone nearly made her have a panic attack.

'But he knows,' she reminded herself, and her heart slowed to a normal pace again. 'He understands that. He hints, tries to make his little advances, but he never pushes. Whenever I get uncomfortable he backs off.'

Strange that he was so good at that in regards to the emotional aspects of their odd relationship, but when it came to the physical, he tended to press.

'He might understand me mentally, but he's still a pervert, and that won't ever change,' she deduced.

Maybe… maybe she could give him a chance… just one. He was living with her, after all, it might make sense to do so. She was obviously in control of the pace they moved at, so she could do this… one little step at a time, and – if he pushed too hard – she could always back out again. Or kick his ass, depending on the nature of said 'pushing'.

She took a deep breath, mentally prepping herself. Her hands trembled along the railing bar, still clenched around the cold metal. 'I swear… if this is just some sick trick to get me to lower my guard… I'm gunna give him a beating that he'll feel for the rest of his life!'

The small, hopeful voice inside of her told her that it wasn't a trap. The sad look he wore was too raw, too real to be false. She should know, she saw those same eyes staring back at her every time she saw her reflection.

A cool breeze swept across the walkway, making her shiver. She hadn't even realized how chilly it was out here. Arms folding around herself, Maki turned and headed back into her apartment, leaning briefly against the door as she contemplated ways of approaching Sakamoto. Would it seem odd for her to simply start speaking to him after the way she'd treated him last night?

Her stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting her musings and providing her with a possible solution to her dilemma. Perhaps that was as good a way to start as any? He had offered to make her something to eat, and while she'd turned him down, she guessed that the offer was still standing. Moving into her bedroom, she peered at Julietta's sprawled form, the large male shifting as he woke. Long limbs stretching, he squinted at her through bleary eyes and disheveled bangs.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Maki stammered, "S-So… can you… cook breakfast as well as you cook stir-fry?"

Surprise registered on his face for a moment before a pleased smile blossomed on his lips.

**What's this?! She's… she's trying… to make nice! Ohhh my! ^3^**


	18. Play Nice

**Disclaimer: I do not own AirMaster**

**Play Nice**

Trying to get along with your former (possibly current) stalker was… odd, and rather difficult, Maki decided. Much of her time around him was spent wrestling with the urge to hit him, and she was not always successful tamping said urge. While he could – at times – be charming, he was still a pervert, and his lecherous tendencies often ruined the amiable mood.

At the moment, however, the atmosphere between them was relatively pleasant, Sakamoto having yet to say or do anything suggestive to spoil it. Most of their meals were spent this way, likely because they were both too busy eating to cause conflict. Not that she was complaining; Julietta was an incredible cook, and it was nice just to sit and enjoy the culinary delights he prepared.

Scraping the final bits of food from her dish, Maki set her bowl aside and flopped back into the couch with a satisfied hum. She glanced over at her charge turned personal chef in grudging bewilderment. As he leaned against the doorframe of her bathroom in dishevelled repose, she thought to herself that he didn't seem the type to be good in the kitchen.

Well… she didn't really know him, so it was hard to say what 'type' he actually was. She simply would never have guessed cooking would be a forte of his. Though, at first glance, she would not have pinned him for a writer, either.

'I suppose that's why they say to never judge a book by its cover,' she mused, thinking she probably didn't_ look _like much of a fighter, either.

Maki glanced at her empty bowl, wishing she had more food. Not because she was hungry, but because now came the uncomfortable after-meal-silence in which she sat and wondered what to do next. She'd always been very socially awkward, and trying to communicate peaceably with someone who she was only beginning to tolerate was a challenge of monumental proportions. She didn't know anything about him, aside from a few things. He _really _liked her, was a decent fighter, and an extraordinary cook… but that was all. So, suffice it to say, trying to strike up a conversation was a nearly impossible task.

She looked over at him again, noting that he was staring back at her in turn.

'I wonder what _he's_ thinking about,' the redhead pondered with a slight grimace. 'I hope he isn't thinking gross things about me.'

Julietta smiled lazily. "What's on your mind, Maki?"

She pursed her lips, uncertain of whether or not it was a good idea to answer him. There was a fifty percent chance she didn't want to hear the answer to her internal query, so she decided to keep the thought to herself.

Shrugging, she fibbed, "Just thinking about… school stuff."

Sakamoto looked less than convinced, an amused smile tugging at his lips. Long arms unfolding from across his chest, he ran one hand through his shaggy hair, the other slipping down to sink into his pant pocket.

The action made her realize something (rather belatedly)... those were the same pants he'd worn the very first day he'd arrived here. He didn't have a change of clothing. Had he been washing and wearing the same clothes over and over again? A closer inspection of his slacks and dress shirt told her that was likely the case, as they seemed a bit rumpled.

'They're probably supposed to be dry-cleaned,' she surmised, wondering why he hadn't said anything to her.

Then, another realization struck her. If those were his _only_ clothes, and he'd been washing them _here_… Had he been sitting naked in her apartment? Had he been sitting naked on her couch?! _This couch?! _The one she was currently _sitting_ on? Or her _bed_?! What if she had come home while he was naked?!

Promptly ending the riotous line of thought before she gave herself a brain aneurism, she decided to rectify the issue.

"Do you need me to get you some other things to wear?" She had tried very hard not to let the panic seep into her voice, rather proud that she managed to say it without stuttering.

He looked genuinely surprised by the offer, looking down at himself thoughtfully before answering, "It would be nice to have a few options, I suppose."

"Why didn't you ask me? I mean… you've been here how long now?"

"Twenty _glorious_ days," he replied with a crooked smile.

She glared at him, but let the comment slide.

"Your father-"

"Shiro." Maki interrupted him brusquely. That man did not deserve the title of father, at least where she was concerned.

Nodding in understanding, Sakamoto went on, "Shiro … he has some clothing of mine."

She blinked, recalling that he'd mentioned Julietta staying with him for a time. Her eye twitched. 'That… that _useless_ _asshole _dumps this babysitting gig into my lap, and doesn't even have the decency to bring over some extra clothing?! The next time I see him, he is _getting_ it!'

Julietta noticed the tightening of her mouth, and the way she was wringing the bottom of her shirt quite violently. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward and bent to take her dishes, keeping his weight off his injured leg. He was still a bit stiff, but not nearly as sore as he'd been when he'd arrived. Straightening, he told her, "It's quite fine. There's no real rush."

The young redhead gave him an awkward little nod of thanks, wondering if she should be letting him fawn over her like that. She didn't want to reinforce the idea that she enjoyed it, but more than that, she didn't want him straining himself unnecessarily. When he returned to the living area, she asked, "Should you be doing so much moving around?"

He gave an odd little half shrug, half nod, divulging, "My ribs are mending nicely, and my leg hardly gives me any trouble. Besides, it gives me something to do while I'm here."

"Wow, that ki stuff must be pretty effective," she mumbled, rather impressed.

"I can teach you," he offered.

Maki looked at him, thinking he didn't appear too devious at the moment. It was a tempting proposition; something like that could _really_ come in handy in the future. She considered it for a brief time, deciding that it would be a _most_ useful tool, one that warranted risking his mischief. If he tried to get frisky, she would simply knock him unconscious and drag his sorry ass back to the bedroom.

Clearing her throat, she stammered, "S-Sure."

He nodded, shuffling over to take a seat next to her.

Maki gaped, scooting swiftly to the opposite side of the couch and up onto the arm while asking shrilly, "R-Right now?!"

Sakamoto smiled. "No time like the present."

When she did not come down off her perch immediately, he gave a small laugh. "Relax, Maki. Do you want to learn?"

Scowling, she slid back onto the cushions, muttering, "Yeah, I guess."

"Good. Now, close your eyes."

She shot him a suspicious look, to which he merely grinned. Doing as she was told, Maki coaxed herself to relax, cerulean blue eyes slipping hesitantly shut.

"Do you meditate?" Julietta asked softly.

Shifting, she responded, "No, not really."

"We'll start with that first. You need to have a clear mind if you want to master your ki," he began. "Place your feet flat on the floor, and keep your back straight. Now rest your hands comfortably on your knees or in your lap, however you prefer."

She followed his instructions, feeling him move next to her as he performed the same motions.

"Good. Now, relax your muscles, starting with your feet and working your way up from there. Take deep breaths through your nose and out your mouth. Free your mind of all thought."

While she had never meditated in a traditional sense, Maki was no stranger to tuning out the world around her. She did it every time she fought, drowning distraction in an all-encompassing silence. In that silent, peaceful state of mind, only the air spoke to her.

_Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale._

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

_In…_

_Out… _

Her apartment fell away -the city, the people, the noise, all of it disappearing. Her body went lax, nothing but the sound of her steady breathing punctuating the silence.

"Maki?"

The low utterance of her name startled her. His deep voice - so very close - pierced through the silence and made her shiver… though not in a way she might have expected. The heat of his breath and the smooth slide of air against her side from his movement elicited a delicious tingle through the very core of her. No one had ever evoked such a reaction from her. It was… rather alarming.

She opened her eyes and leaned away from him, any semblance of internal peace she'd mustered shattering.

'How could the sound of _this man_ make me react that way?' she wondered, slightly panicked. He had a… nice voice, she would admit, but considering their past one would think the sound of it would have her shivering in repulsion, not… not…

Maki stood, suddenly very uncomfortable. She didn't know how to handle this situation. Should she hit him? Well… he hadn't really done anything… so that didn't seem right. She growled, gripping her head as she gave it a confused shake. She sorely wanted to hit _something! _

"Is everything alright?" Sakamoto asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

She leapt over the couch without a word, snatching her shoes from in front of the door and rushing outside. Hastily pulling on her runners while descending the stairs, Maki took off at a brisk jog once she reached the ground floor, not really certain where she was going. She just needed to get away… to straighten out her thoughts.

'That was… too weird.'

Well, perhaps weird wasn't the right word. Mindboggling was a little more accurate.

'How am I supposed to go back there and face him again after that?!' she wondered, mortified. 'How am I going to _live with myself_?! I'll never be able to look at myself in a mirror again! Damn it, I really want to hit something!'

Or maybe… someone…?

Shiro! Yes! She had a bone to pick with him anyway, so it was totally justified! Changing direction, Maki set off toward her father's gym, knowing that was the place to find him given the time of day.

'I hope he's ready to get an ass whooping,' she thought wickedly, anticipation mounting as she picked up speed.

* * *

><p>A few miles away, a tremor ran down Shiro's spine.<p>

"What's the matter?" asked the shorter man he was spotting.

He laughed it off and gave a one-shouldered shrug. "It's nothing. I think I just need to turn the fans down a bit."

**If he only knew… **

**Hope it's to your liking. More is on the way.**


	19. Through the Wringer

**Soooo it's been awhile. Yeah…about that… **

**Happy new year! Enjoy this long overdue, really short chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own AirMaster.**

**Through the Wringer**

_BAM… BAM… BAM…_

Her fist tingled, skin stinging where it had come in contact with the solid surface of the door. It felt good to knock with unnecessary force, Maki decided as she stood waiting, sharp cerulean eyes fixed on the spot she knew her lousy excuse for a 'father' would appear momentarily. While not entirely as satisfying as smashing her knuckles into his face, it took some of the edge off. She decided to do it again.

_BAM… BAM… BAM…_

"The door is open!" came a call from inside the building.

Oh, she knew.

BAMBAMBAMBAM!

"Oh, for the love of…! What is your problem?! You slow or something?!" shouted the now irate owner of the voice.

Her pulse quickened at the sound of heavy footsteps, body tightening in preparation.

The door slid open with a loud '_shwak_', Shiro's broad frame filling up the entryway. His angry expression instantly fell upon seeing her there. "Oh, it's you. What are you do-_owughhhh!_"

A quick jab to the gut cut off his inquiry, folding him over momentarily. Face scrunched in surprise and pain, Shiro demanded, "What was that for?!"

Maki scowled. "For being a shitty dad."

The tall redhead stepped inside, brushing past him and into the gym. The occupants of the room had by that point stopped what they were doing, staring in confusion and alarm at the squabbling pair. She paid them no mind. Turning to her still wincing sire, she said, "We need to talk."

"About?" he somewhat groaned, annoyance coloring his tone.

She frowned. "Firstly, let's talk about the fact that you dumped a strange man off at my apartment nearly a month ago without any extra clothing or supplies!"

The tall male scratched his neck. "Oh, yeah. Forgot about that."

"No shit."

He quirked an auburn brow. "I gave you money. Why didn't you buy him something?"

"I hate shopping!" Maki informed him. "I can't stand doing it for myself, never mind doing it for a grown man! How the hell would I know what sizes to get him?!"

Shiro lifted his hands in placation. "Alright, alright! I see your point! It's not a big deal. I'll just stop by later to drop off some stuff."

"Bring more money too," she told him bluntly.

"You burned through the rest of it already?" he nearly shouted.

She shrugged. "I've still got some, but that's not the point. You _need _me to do this for you, so if you want me to keep playing babysitter, you're gunna have to pay for it."

"You'll drain my bank account dry, Maki," Shiro whimpered in that irritating manner of his.

"Consider it compensation for the years of neglect," the redhead responded dryly.

"Fine, fine!" he agreed, flapping his hands in the air.

She nodded, stepping toward the ring. Grabbing hold of the bottom rope, she pulled herself onto the raised platform. "Good. Now, get up here."

"What for?" he asked, sounding a little edgy.

"I want a fight," she replied with a raised brow, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Shiro regarded her - form tense, eyes ablaze. She looked ready to destroy someone. "I don't know if I want to do that. You look pretty high-strung."

"Uh, yeah," she agreed while pulling off her sweater and tossing it out of the ring. "That's why I'm here. I need to wind down."

He had a distinct feeling that he was about to get his ass handed to him… in front of everyone. How embarrassing. However, it wouldn't be as embarrassing as backing down from a fight. Sighing, he unzipped his coach's jacket and placed it in an unoccupied chair, pulling himself through the ropes with a grumble.

'This… is going to suck.'

**So, Maki gets her kicks, and not from Sakamoto for once! They've come so far!*&$$^!**


	20. Searching for Jenny

**Disclaimer: I do not own AirMaster.**

**Searching for Jenny  
><strong>

"Good, Maki. Now start counting yourself back to wakefulness."

The tall redhead did as she was instructed, slowly counting from zero to one, then from zero to two (and so on), until she reached ten. She opened her eyes slowly, feeling fully relaxed and exceptionally better than she had in a long time. This meditating stuff really paid off!

"Now that you've learned to meditate properly, we can begin getting you acquainted with your ki tomorrow," Sakamoto told her, leaning back onto his hands and uncrossing his legs.

She nodded, pleased by the progress she'd made. At this rate, she'd be manipulating her energy in no time!

A loud growl broke the peaceable silence, alerting them of the discontent in Maki's stomach.

Julietta hummed in amusement, rising slowly to his feet as he offered, "Should I make us some supper, then?"

The look on her face was answer enough, blue eyes practically sparkling at the mention of a meal. Her temporary chef grinned and moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge wide to see what he had to work with. "How does gyudon sound?"

"Like heaven," she responded dreamily, her gut growling in agreement.

The young woman leaned against the wall as he started preparing their meal, arranging the ingredients neatly on the counter, and gathering the utensils. She observed him quietly as he began, chopping the onion, slicing the beef into perfectly sized pieces. His precision was impressive, and again she found herself wondering how he learned to cook so well.

'Anita,' the redhead recalled. 'He said that _Anita _had taught him, but… who _is _she?'

Julietta was growing more mysterious with every passing day, with all of his surprising quirks and talents, not to mention the sad, wistful look she'd catch on his face from time to time. It was so damn familiar it ached, and while she loathed admitting it, she was becoming _really _curious. Who was he, really? What kind of life had he led for it to have turned him into this strange, secluded, _violent_ man?

Her chest throbbed with longing, part of her wanting deeply to know. The sad, lonely part of her, the part where she kept all of her memories of the past, yearned to find someone to share her pain, to relieve the weight of the secrets she kept.

"Who _was_ Anita?" she asked, surprising herself. She hadn't meant to say it aloud.

Maki fully expected him to remain silent, or even to leave the room, but he stayed, turning toward her with deep and contemplating eyes. Eventually he looked away, breathing slowly, almost as if it hurt him to do so.

"She was… my nanny."

That… was _not_ what she had been expecting. "Your nanny?"

He nodded, grating the ginger. "Yes. She was a pleasant woman… older and a bit eccentric, but pleasant."

The redhead fidgeted, uncertain if she should continue. He wasn't usually so open to discussion when it came to his past, and a part of her felt like it should take advantage of the lapse. Taking a quick breath, she decided to go for it.

"Were your parents… busy?"

"Yes," he responded, surprising her again. "They both had jobs that required they travel almost constantly. I was raised mostly by the household staff."

"Staff? So your family was wealthy?"

"Very. I had everything a child could ask for and more."

He stopped grating, his hands stilling as he stared vaguely at some undefined point on the wall in front of him. That sad, quick smile flickered across his lips again, there for only an instant before it was gone again.

"Though, I never did get the thing that I wanted most. I could have cared less about the toys, and games, and gadgets. All I ever really wanted was their time, but it was something I never really got. Even when they were around they were never paying attention, always buried in their work."

Maki frowned, knowing what it was like to thirst for a parent's love and receiving none.

Juliette resumed grating, continuing on. "On my eleventh birthday my mother was in Florence, and my father was in Guam. I think Anita felt sorry for me, a little boy spending his birthday alone. So, knowing that I enjoyed classical music – a taste I'd acquired from my mother - she took me to see the opera."

He made a little sound in the back of his throat, which she assumed was some kind of stifled laugh.

"I'd listened to them frequently, but that was the first time I'd ever gone to one. I remember being so happy, happier than I'd ever been before."

She furrowed her brows, thinking that was the saddest, lamest thing she'd ever heard. An eleven year old boy, enthused about going to the opera with an elderly lady?

"I couldn't tell you what the name of it was. I'm sure she told me at some point, but I was so excited about the entire experience I hardly heard a word she said to me," he commented with a wave of his hand.

Finishing up with all of the necessary preparations, Julietta turned to lean against the oven, arms crossing over his chest. His eyes were trained on nothing, taking on an unfocused sheen as he recalled that evening, so long ago.

"That night I fell in love for the first time; I knew it the instant I saw her, even as a child."

Maki blinked, not having expected the story to take this kind of turn.

"She was lovely, and her voice was the purest, clearest thing I've ever heard, even to this day. Her song… was so sad and lonely, and I knew that she understood my turmoil. I wanted to hold her, to chase away all of her loneliness, just as I wished someone would chase away mine. I was inexplicably drawn to her, and the connection we shared."

He smiled, shaking his head. "Again, I didn't know her name. I was so struck with her beauty and her sadness that everything else became inconsequential. Later on, I would childishly christen her Jenny, because I thought the name suited her."

"Jenny," the young woman repeated slowly, finally understanding.

She'd never been a real person, merely an image he'd latched onto as a child, his idea of the _perfect_ woman, a companion to share his pain with. A month ago, Maki would have scoffed at the notion of having anything in common with this man, but now she could admit to sharing more similarities with him than she'd ever thought possible. And strangely enough, it didn't bother her like she thought it would.

"Of course I never saw her again," Julietta went on suddenly, shaking her from her silent revelations.

"Not that it mattered," he said with a shrug. "She was an actor, merely playing a part. All of that sadness was never truly hers. Yet, the feelings she inspired within me lingered, and I promised myself that I would find her someday - the 'real' Jenny, my kindred spirit."

He looked at her, his dark gaze meeting her brilliant one as he told her, "The very first time I saw you – looked into your eyes – I knew there was a similar pain deep inside of you, one that you hid away from the world. I know… because I feel it too, I carry it with me wherever I go, and I wanted nothing more than to heal you."

With that he turned his back to her, leaving her thoroughly bewildered. The silence stretched between them, the soft scraping of the spoon against the sides of the pot only seeming to intensify it. Maki stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. _When had she started breathing so hard? _

**Oh, first little peek into Julietta's past. Perhaps we will see more in the near future…**


End file.
